



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


Chap.1fZ23Copyright No. 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 


1 ' ; ' 
I#,- :-* ' . 

I 4- 

f ■ f ■ 

# 

4 ,# 





JACK PAYTON 


AND HIS FRIENDS. 


A BOOK IN FOUR TARTS. 



MRS. MAY ANDERSON HAWKINS. 



Htcl^monb, Da. : 

Presbyterian Committee of Publication. 
1896. 



r 



Copyrighted 

BY 

JAS. K. HAZEN, Secretary of Publication. 

I 896. 


Printed by 

WhITTET & Sh EPPERSON, 
Richmond, Va. 


TO mY Loving children 

this book 

IS Lovingly inscribed. 



CONTENTS, 


PART I. 

Jack Payton’s Partner, 


PART II, 

The Sewanee Club, 


PART IIL 

A Danger Signal, 


PART IV, 

The Shop at Black’s Corner, 



Jack Payton’s Partner. 


I 


V 






.t 





, ^ 






Jack Payton’s Partner. 


CHAPTEE 1. 

5 morning bell at Mrs. Moore’s board- 



-JL ing-house rang out merrily. It always 
sounded just fifteen minutes before breakfast 
was served. This was to allow the ten young 
gentlemen who composed her list of boarders 
ample time to make the last needful prepara- 
tions for the meal. No one was ever late in 
coming to breakfast at Mrs. Moore’s. Her 
table was so excellent, her appointments so 
perfect, and the lady herself so anxious to 
please, that the students who were so fortunate 
as to secure a place in her home were careful 
never to annoy her by that late ‘‘ dropping in” 
to meals so exasperating to careful house- 
keepers. 

No one but students from Glyndon Academy 
were admitted into her household, and it was 


9 


10 


Jack Payton's Partner, 


an understood thing that the number thus 
accommodated were gentlemen. If one or 
two of coarser grain were sometimes taken 
in, unawares, the influence of the others 
was sufficient to hold them in check. Mrs. 
Moore’s ‘‘boys” were a model set of board- 
ers, yet happy and merry as heart could 
wish. 

“ Did you know Jack Payton has a partner? ” 
cried John Pushton, linking arms with his spe- 
cial chum, Harry Norton. 

“ Well, Jack’s rather young to carry on such 
a flourishing business. But who is the part- 
ner ? ” 

“ That is the mystery. He’s a ‘ silent part- 
ner,’ Payton says, and that’s all we can get 
from him. He is so mysterious that some of 
us are awfully curious on the subject.” 

“ His father, perhaps.” 

“Hardly. His family live in New Orleans. 
Yesterday I heard him tell Mr. Brown that he 
must consult his partner before he could give a 
reply to some business proposition just made. 
Mr. Brown was to call in an hour for hie 


Jack Paytons Partner, 11 

answer. Jack couldn’t hear from New Orleans 
in that time. It must be some one living in 
Glyndon.” 

‘‘It couldn’t be Mr. North, could it? He’s 
got more money than he knows what to do 
with, and yet, you know, he’s always planning 
to make more. Perhaps they’ve formed a part- 
nership, and Jack’s is only a branch store of 
the other.” 

“No, because old North is awfully snappy 
with Jack. He knows he is popular, and he 
snubs him at every turn.” 

“ Perhaps that’s only a blind.” 

“ Hardly.” 

The last bell sounded, and breakfast ended 
the conversation. 

A week later John Rushton walked briskly 
into Jack Payton’s store. The proprietor was 
young, not over twenty-one, with a manly and 
pleasing face and bearing. These had won 
him hosts of friends during the year he had 
been a resident of Glyndon. 

“ A dozen cigarettes, please.” 

“ Don’t keep them.” 


12 


Jack Payton's Partner, 


Mr. Payton’s voice corresponded with his 
face ; it inspired confidence. 

“How is that? You had them last week.” 
John Eushton’s tone expressed both surprise 
and disappointment. 

“ Yes, but my partner objects to my handling 
them.” 

“Your partner must be a queer sort of fel- 
low.” His manner showed irritation. He 
wanted his cigarettes. Mr. Payton responded,, 
pleasantly : 

“ Some people might so consider him. I re- 
spect and trust him entirely.” 

“But what is his objection to your selling 
cigarettes? Didn’t you make a good thing out 
of them ? ” 

“In a pecuniary sense, yes.” 

“ Then where’s the trouble ? ” Young Eush- 
ton was persistent. 

Jack hesitated a moment, and then answered,, 
pleasantly : 

“ He knows cigarette smoking is ruinous to 
health. He thinks I might as well sell intoxi- 
cants as tobacco.” John looked curiously into 


Jack Pay torts Partner, 13 

the recess where tobacco had been wont to re- 
pose. 

And you now sell the weed in no form ? ” 
His friend shook his head. 

‘‘But is not that quixotic, Payton? People 
will buy from others. Why not get the profits 
as well as old North.” 

“ I never argue with my partner. His head 
is level, and I can trust him. Besides, I now 
fully agree with him.” 

“ You didn’t at first ? ” curiosity in face and 
voice. Jack laughed. 

“I wanted the profits. But young Norton 
smoked his first cigarette in this store. He had 
promised his mother never to touch one. I 
felt almost as guilty as though I myself had 
broken a vow.” 

“ I don’t see why.” 

“ The sight of my cigarettes tempted him. I 
kept a fine brand, you know, and arranged 
them to show well. He kindly says he has 
stopped patronizing any store but mine. If I 
had not had the cigarettes be might not have 
broken his promise. And the habit of using 
tobacco is bad, at best.” 


14 


Jack Payton's Partner. 


Young Eusliton looked thoughtful, but said, 
after a moment’s pause : 

I fail to see your responsibility in the mat- 
ter. I suppose you told your partner about 
Norton? ” 

Jack flushed, but before he could reply a 
customer claimed his attention. 

The following week there was much excite- 
ment among Mrs. Moore’s ten boarders at an 
announcement made by John Rushton at the 
dinner table : 

The Mill Company has bought out every 
merchant in Glyndon except Payton, and are 
going to open an immense ‘ commissary.’ The 
operatives in the mill are to be paid in tickets, 
and these are to be exchanged for supplies at 
the ‘ commissary.’ ” 

There were two large mills, a cotton and a 
woollen one, in Glyndon, in which hundreds of 
operatives were given employment. Hitherto 
their earnings had been spent impartially 
among the various stores of the place. Now 
they were to be poured into the <5offers of the 
company owning the mills, at wdiose head stood 


Jack PaytovbS Partner, 15 

Mr. North. After the buzz of questions which 
this information elicited had partially subsided, 
Rushton added : 

‘‘The four merchants of Glyndon, Ward, 
Howard, Payne, and Howe, who are bought 
out, are to be employed at large salaries in the 
‘commissary.’ Two wagons are to be run to 
take orders and deliver goods, and the idea 
seems to be to ruin Jack Payton. Every dollar 
he has in the world is invested in his store, and 
unless his partner has the extra cash, old North 
will run him down. The company intend to keep 
such a line of goods as was never seen in Glyn- 
don before, and at such low figures Jack will 
not be able to compete.” Rushton paused, 
through lack of breath. 

“ Why is not Jack bought out and taken into 
the concern as well as the other merchants ? ” 

It was Norton who put this question. 

Rushton, who had begun an attack upon his 
neglected dinner, waited a moment before he 
replied. 

“ His clerk says Mr. North was shut up with 
Jack for an hour yesterday in Jack’s little 


16 Jack Payton^ s Partner, 

office. Payton got excited, and Dick heard 
him say : ‘ No, Mr. North, I’ll be no party to 
such a scheme. It’s a trick to swindle poor 
people out of their just earnings. You must 
count me out.’ 

‘‘ ‘ Then it means ruin to you, Mr. Payton,’ 
said old North.” 

^ All right,’ says Jack, as cool as a soldier 
under fire. ‘I’ll take my chances. Honest 
money is what I want, and my partner will 
bear me out in my position.’ At that old North 
laughed, and the interview closed.” 

“Old North is a regular shark.” 

“Payton is too honest to get along in this 
world.” 

“ He’ll have to give in in the end.” 

These and similar remarks came from around 
the table. Young Norton said, fire in his eyes 
and voice : 

“ Boys, let’s stick to Jack, and let’s work for 
him. We can, if we try, carry him every stu- 
dent in the Academy, and the families of the 
resident ones. Everybody knows old North is 
a cheat, and hone it folks ought to give him the 


Jack Pay toils Partner, 17 

< 5 old shoulder. Let’s work with a will for 
Jack ! ” 

Had they been out-of-doors three lusty cheers 
would have greeted this outburst. As it was, 
nine voices cried, Aye ! aye ! ” in subdued ex- 
citement, and Eushton said : 

‘‘I can see through old North’s scheme. He 
will sell low at first and starve Jack out. When 
things go as he wishes, he will sell at high 
figures and make immense profits. There will 
be no other store nearer than Westbrook, so 
people, especially the poorer classes and the 
mill hands, will be forced to get their supplies 
from the ‘ commissary.’” 

‘‘Tour head is clear,” said Charley Dixon, 
the wag of the party. “ Why not be a merchant 
yourself, Eushton ? A mind that can see 
through a sharp scheme so quickly ought not 
to be chained to a pulpit. Better change 
your program and offer your services to Mr. 
North. A year under his sharp practice would 
fit you to become a millionaire in no time. 
^ Birds of a feather,’ you know.” 

This sally evoked a burst of laughter at 


2 


18 


Jack Payton's Partner, 


Eushton’s expense. It was well known that he 
contemplated entering the ministry, and his gay 
companions chaffed him not a little upon the 
subject. To them it seemed absurd that such 
a splendid intellect and physique as he pos- 
sessed should “go to the dogs,” as they ele- 
gantly termed his choice of profession. 


CHAPTEK IL 


I N the month that followed, Enshton’s read- 
ing of Mr. North’s plan was fully justified. 
The ‘‘commissary” was opened with much 
pomp. The mill hands were given a day’s 
holiday, and a substantial dinner was served 
in the public park, at which cider and beer 
were freely distributed. Adroit marks of atten- 
tion were paid those families who, it was feared, 
might prove loyal to Jack Payton, and no stone 
was left unturned that might make the new 
enterprise a success. 

The Academy boys, some two hundred in 
number, were solid for Jack, but their influence 
did not reach so many families as they had 
hoped. The “ commissary ” carried such a 
varied and full line of goods that all of Glyn- 
don’s wants could be supplied as soon as felt. 
It was “such a convenience” to have all orders 
politely taken at the door, and promptly deliv- 
ered, without further trouble, that few could 
withstand the temptation. 

19 


20 Jack Paytoris Partner, 

At first, prices were marvelously low. Some 
of the more prudent noticed, as the months 
crept by, that figures advanced, but they felt 
no alarm. 

Jack Payton’s store had few customers. The 
Academy boys made it merry with their pres- 
ence and jokes, and all their pocket-money was 
freely spent with him ; and a few of the best 
families still gave him their custom. But the 
outlook grew darker and darker for the young 
merchant, and a cloud began to settle over his 
frank face. 

Long ago every Academy boy, led by Eush- 
ton, had abandoned the use of cigarettes. It 
was generally understood that in a certain little 
room in the “commissary” building a customer 
could always get a glass of cider or beer free of 
cost. This so outraged some of the leading 
spirits in the Academy that a society was 
formed, in which the “total abstinence pledge” 
was introduced. Every boy signed it, and, 
banding themselves into squads of three or 
four, they made the circuit of the town, expos- 
ing the Mill Company’s tactics, and drumming 
boldly for Jack Payton. 


Jack Payton's Partner, 21 

The immediate result was to win five of the 
more prominent Christian families over to Jack, 
and to start a gentle ripple of indignation 
against Mr. North, who, it was well known, was 
the guiding spirit in the new enterprise. 

About a week after this, as Kushton and 
Norton were standing in Payton’s store one 
afternoon, Mr. North’s handsome carriage was 
seen approaching. 

I do believe he’s coming to interview you, 
Payton,” cried Rushton, excitedly. 

“Yes, the driver is pulling up. I say. Pay- 
ton, if he makes^ overtures, do accept,” said 
Norton, anxiously. 

Jack smiled grimly. 

“How about my partner?” 

“ If he is still obstinate, I’d let him run the 
shop himself, unless he’s a millionaire, and can 
afford to keep you in idleness.” 

Mr. North entered with his usual pompous 
air, and nothing ipore was said. 

The interview lasted a full half-hour. Mr. 
North came out of the cosy little office, looking 
angry and ugly, and Jack’s face was stern and 


22 


Jack Payton's Partner, 


pale as ashes. No one dared question him 
when he looked like that ; but Eushton, wish- 
ing to express his sympathy, recklessly ordered, 
“Ten pounds of raisins, lard, soap, and things.” 

Payton’s face relaxed into a fleeting smile, 
and he said, quietly: “It’s a flght to the death 
now.” 

That night he closed his store early. His 
customers were so few that his clerk had been 
dismissed some time before, and he had only a 
small lad employed to clean the shop and run 
errands. His face still wore that stern, anxious 
expression as he locked his ^ door and turned 
down the street. 

“I’m off for a walk,” he said to Charley 
Dixon and Norton, whom he met on the corner, 
coming towards his shop. He did not offer to 
turn back, nor ask them to accompany him ; so 
they followed aimlessly in his wake. 

“More cut up than I ever saw him,” said 
Norton. “It’s a burning shame for old North 
to push him to the wall like this. If I were in 
his place, I should almost be tempted to burn 
the mills.” 


Jack Payton's Partner. 


23 


“Or shoot old Sharpie some dark night.” 

In their sympathy for Jack, the boys* ideas 
of right and wrong had become rather con- 
fused. 

Jack’s walk was a long one. He skirted the 
dark mill-pond, which, gloomy at all times, 
now looked to his depressed fancy as sombre 
as “the dank tarn of Auber.” 

“I could almost fancy the ghouls were haunt- 
ing it at this moment,” he thought, with a slight 
shiver. It had been raining almost incessantly 
for two weeks. The rain had now ceased, but 
the moon kept hiding behind banks of dark 
clouds, and this added to the weirdness of the 
scene. 

“Halloo! What;s that?” 

He heard a rapid swish and dash of waters 
from the outer wall of the embankment upon 
which he was walking. 

“Why, the dam is leaking, and the bank is 
breaking fast ! ” 

He stopped, dizzy and unnerved for the mo- 
ment from the rush of emotions the discovery 
evoked. 


24 


Jack PaytovbS Partner. 


A broken dam, discovered too late, meant 
destruction to the mills and the commissary ” ; 
and this meant prosperity to him. For one 
moment he was tempted to hide the startling 
fact, which had been made known to him by 
the purest chance, in his own heart; the next, 
he started into a run, saying, through his set 
teeth: ‘‘Thank God for my partner! He has 
saved me from worse than ruin to-night.” 

He almost ran into the arms of Dixon and 
Norton, who had been but a short distance 
behind him. 

A few brief words explained the leak. 

“ Let it alone, Payton. The company deserve 
the loss. Don’t you see, a broken dam means 
success and prosperity for you ? ” 

Norton’s voice was low and tense with sub- 
dued excitement. 

“Aye! Just keep still. Come with us for a 
tramp. When we get back, it’ll be too late to 
mend the break, and you’ll be the only mer- 
chant in Glyndon,” said Dixon. 

Jack smiled, but shook his head : “ My part- 
ner would never speak to me again should I do 


25 


Jack Payton's Partner, 

such a thing. Eight is right, boys, no matter 
who suffers. Come! help me sound the alarm,” 
and he dashed off on a run. 

The alarm-bell was sounded, Mr. North was 
quickly summoned, and gangs of men were set 
to work. 

But toil proved useless. A dam many miles 
above Glyndon had broken, and the undue 
pressure was too much for the company’s pond, 
already much fuller than usual. 

Before morning both mills, several tenement- 
houses, and half the ‘‘commissary” building 
were swept away. When the rising sun peeped 
over the hill-tops. Jack* Payton was proprietor 
of the only store in Glyndon. 

The Academy boys were not slow in telling 
all they knew of Mr. North’s plan to swindle 
people, and of his unsuccessful efforts to in- 
veigle Jack into joining him. They also told 
of Payton’s discovery of the broken dam, and 
of his haste in sounding the alarm. The fact 
also crept out that he had worked for hours by 
Mr. North’s side, trying to save his enemy’s 
property. Before the day was over he was the 
most popular citizen Glyndon had ever known. 


26 


Jach PaytoTnUs Partner, 


He at once enlarged his stock of goods, pur-^ 
chased a horse and wagon, employed a clerk, 
and successfully met the demands of the hour. 
His prosperity was assured, for people knew 
he could be trusted, and the world likes to deal 
with such a man. The mills were rebuilt, but 
the ‘‘commissary” had had its day, and was 
not again opened. 

One day, near the close of the school, Eush- 
ton accosted Jack with his most engaging man- 
ner: “I wish you would tell us who your part- 
ner is, Payton. What is his name, and where 
does he live? We’re curious to meet the old 
fellow before we leave.” 

Jack laughed, pleasantly. A number of the 
students were present. 

“I think you already know him, Eushton,. 
and I hope he and you will never part com- 
pany. My partner’s name, boys, is Conscience.” 

A dead silence followed this announcement. 
Then Norton said, softly : “ I thought as 
much.” 

This broke the spell, and three rousing cheers 
were given for Jack Payton and his trusty 
partner. 


THE SEWANEE CLUB. 


A 




The sewanee Club. 


CHAPTEE I. 

T he club was now three months old. It 
had originated a little oddly. 

A temperance lecturer had visited the beau- 
tiful town of Sewanee. He had made a great 
impression, for he was gifted, and thoroughly 
enthused with his subject. 

The ‘‘University of the South,” one of the 
finest colleges in the entire Southland, is nestled 
in this charming town among the Tennessee 
mountains. 

The class of students who gather here from 
year to year are from the best families the 
South can boast. They are as sturdy, bright 
and manly a set as one could wish to see. 

Opinions varied as to the lecture. Some of 
the students endorsed, while others condemned. 
“It’s all nonsense to suppose a fellow can’t 
29 


30 


The Sewanee Cltih. 


touch a glass of wine without becoming a 
drunkard. It sickens me to hear such men 
talk.” 

Fred Holliday, as he thus spoke, kicked 
over a stool that stood in his path, and faced 
his companions like an animal at bay. He was 
the most popular student in the University. 
His opinion always carried weight. 

Why not try to offset the baneful influence 
of these fanatics by becoming a lecturer your- 
self? ” said Charley Dixon, the wag of the party. 

fellow who can take as large a bumper of 
wine as you, without feeling it, could give prac- 
tical, illustrated lectures to prove the fact that 
wine, in moderation, is a good thing.” 

‘‘Hear! hear! ’ came in subdued, but ani- 
mated, tones from the crowd of students 
around. 

“You’d win over all the young ladies flrst 
thing,” continued Dixon, soberly, with his eyes 
on Holliday. “You’re such a good-looking 
chap, they’d endorse whatever you said, whether 
they understood it or not. Win the ladies and 
the men will follow. I’m fully convinced. Hoi- 


The Sewanee Oluh, 


31 


liday, that your true vocation is found. A 
lecturer you must be.” 

Laughter followed this speech. Holliday, 
while he stood well in his classes, was a total 
failure as an orator, 

“I, for one, endorsed every word Mr. Stanley 
said,” remarked John Eushton, firmly. 

He was also popular, and his voice always 
won attention. 

Quite a hubbub now arose in the room where 
the students were gathered. Every one seemed 
to have an opinion, and each wished to deliver 
it at the same moment. 

As is often the case in colleges, two sets were 
formed. One was in favor of total abstinence, 
the other claimed that the use of wines and 
liquors, in moderation, was not only harmless, 
but beneficial. 

These sets soon separated. 

“I like a fellow of moderation, pluck, and 
backbone,” said Holliday, the next time they 
met together. “ Eushton and his crowd are a 
set of babies and cowards.” 

^‘Why not organize ourselves into a club? 


32 


The Sewanee Chib, 

You’ve given us just the right name,” cried 
Dixon. ‘‘ The ‘ M. P. and B. Club ’ Avould sound 
unique, and give us distinction.” 

This proposition was hailed with cheers, and 
the club was duly organized. 

It had now flourished for several months. 

Some of the brightest students in the college 
were enthusiastic members. They had some 
graceful silver pins struck off, bearing the 
monogram of the club, and each one belonging 
to the order wore one. 

There was much curiosity among those not 
initiated as to the meaning of the letters, but 
the secret was inviolate. 

Many of Rushton’s warmest friends were in 
this club. This fact left him quite lonely. 
He was still true to his principles, but his fol- 
lowers were not from the class of students to 
whom his heart clung. 

We’re going to have a jolly time to-night, 
Bushton,” cried Dixon, one Friday afternoon. 
“We meet in Holliday’s room. Better join 
us.” 

He and Bushton were close friends, having 


The Sewanee Club. 


33 


been chums while at school in Glyndon the 
previous year. 

‘ ‘ Are outsiders admitted ? Perh aps Holliday 
won’t want me.” 

“ Yes, he will. You belonged to our set, any- 
way, before you got cranky. Holliday likes 
you. He said to-day he wished he could help 
you have a good time. You look blue. Come 
over to-night. We’ll wake you up.” 

“All right. I’ll be on hand,” replied Eushton, 
who, truth to tell, was a trifle homesick. 

It was a pleasant sight that met him as he 
entered Holliday’s room a few hours later. 
Some of the choicest spirits in the University, 
full of fun and merriment, were* gathered there. 

It made Eushton’s heart glow to be among 
them. 

Cards were soon brought out. 

“No betting, you know,” said Holliday, care- 
lessly. “ Only parlor games. My sisters play 
when I’m home, and so does the governor. 
Take a hand?” 

Eushton hesitated. But it seemed churlish 
to refuse, and what harm could there be in 
3 


34 


The Sewanee Club, 


joining in a game which the loveliest and 
sweetest girls in the land stamped with their 
approval? for Eushton had . met Holliday’s 
friends, and knew them to be wealthy, cultured 
and refined. 

Harmless jokes and gay witticisms passed. 
All were merry, but nothing coarse, nothing 
bearing a breath of impurity, was heard. 

Some among them smoked. Dixon was not 
of the number, and Eushton declined, when 
Holliday pushed a case containing a choice 
brand of cigarettes toward him. 

‘‘Charley and I swore off together,” he said, 
in answer to some questions Holliday asked. 

“Yes, we owe Jack Payton for that,” re- 
sponded Dixon, looking up from his cards. 
“I didn’t like to own it then, but I knew 
cigarettes were hurting me all the time. My 
head is like another thing since I dropped 
them.” 

“How did you come to do it?” asked some 
one at his elbow. 

“A fellow in Glyndon, w’here Eushton and I 
were at school, got hold of us. He was rather 


The Sewanee Chib, 


35 


quixotic, but splendid for all that. We were 
great chums. Something he said and did, it 
doesn’t matter what, made us throw the weed 
over. And I’m glad I did. Every boy in the 
Academy swore off when we did.” 

Holliday whistled. 

‘^Then the disease was contagious! Well, if 
all the Sewanee boys should swear off, some 
of her merchants would lose a good deal of 
money. I’m glad you didn’t swear off on the 
wine, for I’ve got some first-rate claret for 
you.” 

“We did sign the pledge,” said Dixon, lightly. 
^‘But it only held us while we were in Glyndon. 
Isn’t that the way you understood it?” he 
asked, turning to Eushton. 

“ I have always felt bound by it, even though 
they did tell us it was only meant to hold us 
while in the Academy,” Eushton responded. 

“I hope you’ll break through to-night, 
though,” and Holliday reached into a wardrobe 
and brought out several bottles. 

“My governor sent me this, and he knows 
what good wine is. He tells me if I never 


36 


The Sewanee Club. 


drink an3^tliing but wine, and only the best of 
that, and use it in moderation, it cannot harm 
me. Won’t you try a glass?” 

Kushton declined, with thanks. It was never 
an easy thing to withstand Holliday, and this 
evening he pressed Bushton so closely that, 
had he been less firm in his convictions that 
safety lay only in total abstinence, he must 
have yielded. 

“ Well, I can’t understand why you are afraid 
of one glass of wine. You’re no milksop, and 
I’m sure you have sand sufficient to stop when 
you’ve had enough. I’ve no patience, myself, 
with a drunkard, nor with a fellow who can’t 
take just enough and no more,” and Holliday 
looked curiously into Bushton’s strong, hand- 
some face. 

“ If I should take you for my model, Holliday, 
I’m afraid I should be tipsy every time the bottle 
came around,” said Dixon, laughing. Then 
seeing Bushton’s look of surprise, he added: 
“ He can take the stiffest bumper you ever saw, 
and still keep his head. Half what he tosses 
off, without feeling it, would make the rest of 
us as drunk as loons.” 


CHAPTEE IL 


CAEEY a pretty steady head, it is true,” 



JL said Holliday ; ‘‘ but I’ve always been ac- 
customed to the use of wine. There’s some- 
thing in that.” 

As he spoke he was pouring out the wine and 
handing it around. It certainly looked tempt- 
ing, and for a fleeting moment Eushton almost 
wished he had never signed the pledge. 

It was a pleasant and jovial evening, and 
none of those who were present drank enough 
to experience more than a passing feeling of 
gentle exhilaration. Charley Dixon was a 
trifle more merry and waggish than usual, and 
Holliday’s eyes had a sparkle not ordinarily 
seen, but Eushton was the only one who ob- 
served these signs. 

Here’s three cheers for the ‘ M. P. and B. 
Club,’ ” cried Dixon, swinging his hat as they 
arose to separate. 

The cheers were given in a spirited, but sub- 


37 


38 


The Sewanee Club. 


diied, tone. The club did not wish to attract 
undue attention. 

‘^Eushton, you’re too good a fellow to be 
left out. Do join us ! Hasn’t this been a jolly 
evening? We’re always having such times. 
You can sign the pledge over again when you 
go home.” It was Charley Dixon who thus 
spoke, as he linked his arm in that of his 
friend’s. 

It has been a pleasant evening, and the 
club is composed of some of the best fellows 
in the University,” admitted Eushton. ‘‘ But I 
can’t join, Charley. I swore off forever when 
I was in Glyndon. Jack Payton and his trusty 
partner made a new man of me.” 

‘‘Jack was a brick,” said Dixon, warmly, 
“ but a bit too straight-laced. Holliday is more 
to my mind.” 

“ Did you notice how many glasses of claret 
he drained? I was sure he’d lose his head, 
but he didn’t. His hand was as cool and steady 
as mine when he told me good-night.” 

Dixon shrugged his shoulders. “ It aston- 
ished us all at first. But we’re used to it now. 


The Sewanee Club, 


39 


Ashton and Howe tried to imitate him the last 
time the club met. Both lost their heads. 
It was awfully funny to see them. They were no 
end silly,” and he laughed quite boisterously. 

Kushton looked shocked. ‘‘Were they really 
intoxicated ? ” 

“ As drunk as a corporal.” Again he laughed. 
His friend eyed him sharply. 

“ Look here, Dixon, you’ve taken a trifle too 
much yourself,” he said, very soberly. 

“ Not a drop,’* said Charley, earnestly. “ I 
wouldn’t, you know. My mother made me 
promise never to drink more than one glass. I 
never do.” 

“Tet you are excited and not quite your- 
self,” urged Eushton. 

“ Pshaw ! Just the least bit in the world ex- 
hilarated. It’s delightful. I feel as if I could 
write a poem equal to one of Moore’s, or deliver 
an oration that would make me forever fa- 
mous,” and he threw himself into a tragic atti- 
tude. 

Eushton did not smile. He was palpably 
uneasy. 


40 


The Sewanee Club, 


A year passed. 

In the University of the South ” the “ M. P. 
and B. Club” still flourished. A few of its 
members had not returned at the beginning of 
the school year, and some new ones had been 
admitted. The number was strictly limited to 
twenty. 

“ A crowd is always a bother,” Holliday had 
said. 

As he was head and front of the club, his 
opinion always prevailed. 

One morning about the middle of the term, 
Dixon button-holed Eushton as the latter was 
passing into the chapel, and drew him to one 
side. 

‘‘I’m in trouble. Do you know Holliday is 
called home ? ” 

“No. Is he? Why?” 

“ He read me a letter from his father. It’s 
odd, but his family seem to feel uneasy about 
him.” 

Eushton looked interested. 

‘^Was any reason given for their uneasi- 
ness ? ” 


The Sewanee Club. 


41 


‘‘ A rumor has reached them that he is using 
too much wine, and that he is not up in his 
studies.” 

As Eushton was silent, Charley continued, in 
a low voice : 

“It’s odd how such a rumor got to them. 
Holliday thinks some of the people of the town 
must have made the trouble. You know three 
of our members are Sewanee boys, and Eob 
Nelson withdrew last week. His father, as 
Eob expressed it, ‘ sat down on the club.’ ” 

“I am not surprised,” said his listener, 
quietly. 

“Nor I. Old Nelson is pretty straight- 
laced. One night Holliday’s wine flew to Eob’s 
head a bit, and when he got home his father 
‘ interviewed ’ him. No doubt he is at the bot- 
tom of this mischief. The professors are as 
much troubled over Holliday’s call home as the 
rest of us. They expected a good deal from 
him.” 

“Yet he has certainly fallen back of late. 
His record isn’t up to yours, Charley.” 

Dixon winced. 


42 


The Sewanee Club. 


‘‘ And mine is below par. It’s odd, but my 
head is not clear this year. Holliday says that 
he is growing aged, entering his dotage, is why 
he can’t half study.” 

“Did he show his letter to Dr. Keene ? ” 

As Eushton asked this question he looked 
keenly into his companion’s face. Dr. Keene 
stood at the head of the University. 

“No,” answered Charley, frankly. “He was 
afraid it might cause questions to be asked, and 
injure the club. He merely said an urgent 
call had come for him to return home.” 

“ Have you not noticed a change in Holliday 
yourself this year ? ” 

“ Yes. I can see that he is different, and it 
bothers me. He’s not well, he says, and he is 
certainly looking ill. I don’t see what we are 
going to do without him. The club will fall 
to pieces, I’m afraid.” 

“Would that be a calamity? ” 

Eushton’s tone expressed a great deal. 

“A calamity! I should say so. The only 
fun there is in this stupid old place is in that 
club.” 


The Sewanee Club, 


43 


“ Tet the rest of us manage to get along very 
well without it/’ 

Charley shrugged his shoulders. Just then 
the last chapel bell sounded, and the conversa- 
tion ended. 

It was true that Holliday was called home. 
He took it badly. His spirit had never been 
of the amiable sort, and now he almost grew 
vindictive. He said to Dixon, who was his 
chosen friend : 

‘^It’s downright shabby in the governor to 
treat me so. He was hard on me during vaca- 
tion. Said I was going too deep into wine and 
cards, as if he didn’t do the same. Why, it 
was he who taught me to use both. Mother 
used to feel a bit afraid, but he laughed at her. 
And now, just as I’m a man, he wants to put 
the reins on me.” 

Dixon looked sympathetic, but was silent. 
Holliday broke out afresh : 

“I’ll show him I’m not a baby. I’ll make 
him glad to send me back. I’ll bet a five I’m 
with you all in less than a month.” 

But he was not. 


44 


The Sewanee Cluh. 


The club did not fall to pieces, as Dixon 
had feared, but it was not the same. 

Kushton used his influence to win Charley 
into another set, but he did not succeed. 

Everything in Sewanee is a bore except 
our club,” Dixon one day announced to him. 
‘‘I do wish you’d join us, Eushton. You are 
the most popular fellow here, now Holliday’s 
gone. Come over and join us to-night. Do! 
there’s a good fellow. We really need you. 
We’re going on a lark. There’ll be no end of 
fun.” 

‘‘ What kind of a lark ? ” 

Eushton looked the soul of interest. 

‘‘That’s telling. Unless you join us you 
can’t know. You know ours is a secret so- 
ciety.” 

“ I don’t think I believe in secret societies.” 

“ That’s because you are getting to be an out- 
and-out crank. I wish you were to be any- 
thing else on earth but a parson. It’s the call- 
ing you expect to follow that makes you so 
straight-laced. Why couldn’t you be a prize- 
fighter? You’ve got muscle enough.” 


The Sewanee Club, 


45 


They both laughed, although Eushton did 
not seem at ease. 

“I wish you’d give up this 4ark,’ Charley,” 
he said, earnestly. ‘‘ The professors are a bit 
suspicious about the club already. There are 
some wild spirits among you this year.” 

Jolly good fellows, every one. Your kind 
want to make mummies out of us, but you 
can’t. We know too well what real fun is.” 

His tone was impatient. He was growing 
restless of all restraint. 

Eushton said no more, and they separated. 


CHAPTEE III. 



IHE lark ” came near proving a serious 


J- affair. It was a trick played upon a new 
student, and was supposed by tbe perpetrators 
to be harmless. The result was that the boy 
fell ill. Then the whole occurrence came out. 

Dixon, who had headed the affair, had sev- 
eral days of acute suffering. He feared he 
would be suspended. This, of course, meant 
disgrace. 

He went to Eushton. I was a dolt not to 
listen to you,” he said, ruefully. ‘^We really 
meant no harm ; but we each had a bumper of 
wine before we started. It may have made us 
a bit too merry. Anyway, poor Hardy got 
hurt. I’m really and seriously troubled about 
it. If I’m suspended, it will just kill my 
mother. She has set her heart upon seeing me 
come out of the University with flying colors.” 

And I hope you will still do so,” said his 
friend, cheerfully. “ Hardy is not seriously in- 


46 


The Sewanee Club, 


47 


jured. It was a bad business, but you’ll not 
engage in it again.” 

“ That I won’t. I’m the only son, you know,, 
and my father died when I was only a chap. 
Mother has no one but me to look to. I’m ta 
be a doctor, like my father. The sooner I’m 
graduated the better. Our pile of money is not 
very high, and it’s going fast.” 

There were several interviews with the pro- 
fessors ; long conversations ; hours of harrow- 
ing suspense. Then the delinquents were se- 
verely reprimanded, but not suspended. After 
this affair Dixon seemed changed. He still 
met the club, but his was not, as formerly,, 
one of the leading spirits. One day he came to 
Kushton with an open letter in his hand. His 
face was pallid. 

‘‘Eushton, here’s awful news. Holliday is 
dead. He shot himself.” 

“ Impossible ! How did you hear ? ” 

‘‘ Harry Norton wrote me. His home is in 
the same city.” 

‘‘How did he come to do it? This is, in- 
deed, awful tidings.” 


48 


The Sewanee Club, 


Both young men sank into chairs, as if too 
much unnerved to remain upon their feet. 
Dixon said : 

“ It seems that he had been drinking heavily 
and gambling. Norton says that he did the 
same last summer. It does not seem possible, 
yet Harry avers it is true. Well, his father 
discovered that he was losing money, and 
upbraided him cruelly. His mother also re- 
proached him with tears, and said he had dis- 
graced the family. Holliday couldn’t stand it. 
You know how proud he was. He went out 
and shot himself.” 

Charley groaned aloud, then added : ‘‘ It 
seems too awful to be true.” 

Kushton was silent. He knew how Charley 
had loved Holliday, and words seemed useless 
to comfort. 

The entire college was shocked at the awful 
tidings. A half -holiday was given. Many of 
the students pinned crape upon their hats. 

Charley Dixon looked five years older, and 
his face grew haggard. On Friday night he 
said to Rushton : 


The Sewanee Club, 


49 


“ You must come with me. It is to be the 
last meeting our club will hold.” 

All right ; I will go.” 

It was a sombre meeting. All the life and 
sparkle seemed drained from the young faces. 

‘‘We have met for the purpose of disbanding 
this club,” said Dixon, slowly. 

“Holliday’s fate has convinced us that our 
motto is wrong. Moderation, pluck and back- 
bone failed to save him. It may fail to save 
us.” 

“Why not organize a new club upon the 
ruins of the old?” suggested Eushton. “We 
might call ourselves the ‘ T., P. and B. Club,’ 
Teetotalism, Pluck and Backbone. Do not let 
us make it a secret society, but get every stu- 
dent in the University to join us if possi- 
ble.” 

Everybody looked interested. 

‘^We can make it bright, jolly, and enter- 
taining. Declamations, debates and readings, 
and a farce now and then, would give us va- 
riety. And we might have a spread some- 
times, with lemonade and wafers.” 


4 


50 


The Sewanee Cluh. 


The idea spread at once, and the club was 
duly organized. 

‘‘ I want to confess that I’m afraid I was 
almost as near ruin as poor Holliday,” Dixon 
said, before they separated. The wine I 
drank hurt me. Not at first, but this last year 
I have not been the same fellow; and I find 
myself wanting a stimulant all the time.” 

Another student murmured : I’m the same 
way.” 

It’s a pretty hard pull to give it up,” Dixon 
continued. ‘‘I’m glad I’m enrolled as a tee- 
totaler. Let’s get up a pledge, and all sign it.” 

It was done. Ordinarily, among such a 
merry set of students, it would have been im- 
possible to accomplish this ; but the shock of 
Holliday’s tragic death was upon them, and 
even the most reckless were sobered into 
thoughtfulness. 

One more scene, and we will close. 

It is near the end of the college year. The 
“T., P. and B. Club” are holding their last 
meeting before commencement. A merrier set 
of youths it would be difficult to find. Nearly 


The Sewanee Club, 


51 


every student in the college has been enrolled 
as a member. Dr. Keene has long ago given 
the club his heartiest approval. A lively 
debate is up. The question is : ‘‘ Is the use of 
intoxicants in moderation safe ? ” 

Many fine addresses have already been given. 
The talent seems to have been quite evenly di- 
vided; but those against the use are winning 
the heartiest applause. Perhaps it is because 
the speakers are in such deadly earnest. Never 
did Eushton speak as he does to-night. He 
carries his audience with him, and continual 
cheers interrupt him. 

The last speaker to appear is Charley Dixon. 
Briefiy he touches upon Holliday’s bright, 
promising life. From the first word he utters 
breathless attention is given him. All know 
how he loved the dead, and the pathos in his 
voice touches every heart. Briefly and rapidly 
he recounts his friend’s downward steps, and 
then, in a few burning sentences, pictures the 
end. He adds : 

‘‘ This one tragic death should settle the 
question ; and thousands, nay, millions, of 


52 


The Sewanee Club. 


young men to-day are answering it as did our 
poor friend. It is time that we, who have 
learned the truth at so great a cost, should 
boldly and unwaveringly declare it. Nothing 
but total abstinence is safe. A few more 
months of the moderate use of wine, and, in- 
stead of standing here to-night to vindicate the 
cause of right and truth, I, too, might have 
been beyond the power of earthly help.” 

He paused for a moment, and then, with an 
upward glance of untold love and reverence, he 
added : 

‘‘ I want to confess that I found the fight so 
hard I had to get help from above. Without 
divine aid, I am sure I could not have con- 
quered.” 

Eushton’s eyes were moist. None but he 
and Charley knew of the earnest words spoken 
between them since Holliday’s death. 

That speech won the hearts of the few stu- 
dents who had hitherto held aloof. At its 
close they, too, signed the pledge. 

When the debate was over the club adjourned 
for an hour’s fun and recreation. They met in 


The Sewanee Club, 


53 


the handsome rooms formerly occupied by Hol- 
liday. Baskets of lovely flowers occupied 
every available niche. This club was dear to 
the mothers of Sewanee, and they vied with 
one another in helping make the meetings at- 
tractive. Great pitchers of iced lemonade 
were brought in and plates piled high with 
delicate wafers. Jokes, puns and witticisms, 
with a college song or two, fllled up the hour. 
Then all retired to sweet and refreshing slum- 
ber. At the last moment, before separating, 
Rushton grasped Dixon’s hand : 

‘‘I am glad you were true to your Captain 
to-night, Charley. It cost something to make 
that confession.” 

“ No, really it did not,” his friend responded, 
earnestly. The fact is, I’m so happy in feel- 
ing that he is helping me that I can’t keep 
still ; and two or three of the other fellows are 
finding out the secret of having this Friend to 
go to. Your work among us has been quiet, 
Rushton, but it is being owned. The leaven is 
spreading.” 

Rushton’s face was radiant. It is so sweet to 


54 


The Sewanee Club. 


know that our Captain is using us to turn his 
enemies into friends. 

Dixon’s last words had the ring of a bugle as 
he said : “ ‘ In all these things we are more than 
conquerors.’ If only poor Holliday could have 
found it out in time. It seems to me that I’m 
just beginning to live, Rushton ; that I’ve been 
asleep all my past life.” 

He was right. How many there are about 
us still sleeping! Are we striving to awaken 
them ? 


A DANGER SIGNAL 





.V 




■U 





• ', /■*.• / ''■*. >,;? ’ 


^‘ . i .• ' 

r% ^ i. ft 

i y# '.' tik 


•sCv-l- 

'■.'/4^ - •' MB 

, ■ “ ■ / 


•• *^THJ 



• f 


• r" - : 





Vi?.: 


■!.<. : 





, '*yv' V 

♦ •* f • \ V- - ■ , V • ' ! ^ •^■L * • ' 

^ s .‘^ , • r 
. > >'•1 


»;r- 


2S?4'i • v 


T.- I ►V'v ''•’ ■ 

jrt '• ‘ 




' 


.i« 


■ t/* :* 



. ; )• 


^ ■ r ' f ’•' 
•* ^ 


■ ■ ^ 


>• . 


'•^<: •' ':, '"r- ■ ; '-cm 




A >•*’.' 


r ' 




•' »>• 


. 'V*v- 
. * .’'! ? 


• .N • 


' ♦ 


• ■ Vl-v.-/ ‘ • 

' . ' ■ 1 


W^k . 







A i 




f *: . 


-•y 


" C 'WV ' 


/• 


• ■ > ‘ . v , . 

J • ■ • L> • ' 


jimi' 



^ A ■ -V 


Vw ^ 



i - 


■ jT>- • • 


!•>» '•• I • 

r-’ I- < ^ ’ •* 

.- I •' yi •> » * ' 

• ‘^wwl'K^X- 


, r 


^iav,C- 








'V . 


ft .! '-. .■ . ••^ -■' ■ ■''• 


. ■ 




i -AV ,•••>■ V.** ' • ■ V-^ - 
Iv» ■ V : ‘ » ■'• ■ •• • 


\ 


B-v''-;--' '-Jt ‘ '■ • -■'■• Jv'; ;'-'v • ■•■ •'' • ■ 

Pte V '..y 'v . 


D 



. .«. . V* * - 

>• , * i •♦ 

MMmm 




1* V. 




i'r > 




r.^i 


n •“. -or/ • ■ "ovT/ ■' ■•- .•',\r ' , 1 > an 

■■r ■?■'.' \ - I ■ ', vl^ ■ 'li<'i.‘'.','ii''S.“ 


-t 

!^t. 


ft - . .. A J 


s 




» y A 


. . 


» » * y* 1 / 

’• #*'*-■ 
s' . ’ fc ■ 

■r • ‘ ..- • / 




V * 

W ATW!^ 


. ■ -:v 


t,' 


/i.>4 


. i '■ 


» ' *• •*’ \ • '*1^. 




:<*• 



A DANGER SIGNAL 


A TRUE story. 
CHAPTEE I. 


J ACK PAYTON’S usually sunny face was 
clouded. 

His handsome store was the popular resort 
for the Glyndon students. Upon this particu- 
lar Saturday afternoon some half-dozen of them 
were making merry in his cosy little office. 

Jack had been busy about the store, and had 
only now joined them. He found them en- 
gaged in playing a game of cards. His expres- 
sive face betrayed his surprised disapproval, 
although he spoke no word of remonstrance. 

‘‘Payton, you’re an out-and-out crank,” cried 
Ned Holsten, merrily. “Charley, here,” point- 
ing to a genial-faced, manly-looking fellow, who 
alone was not engaged in the game, “ said you’d 
disapprove of our way of passing the time, but 
I didn’t believe him. You’re such a jolly sort 
57 


58 


A Danger Signal, 


of fellow, I couldn’t imagine you’d be so 
straight-laced. Your face of horror, however, 
proves him right.” 

“What sensible objection is there to cards, 
anyway?” Harry Norton querulously asked. 
“I’ve never yet heard a good reason given.” 

He was one of Glyndon’s oldest students, 
and had known Jack Payton ever since that 
young gentleman had first made this growing 
town his home. 

“Yes, Jack, state your objections.” 

It was Dixon who spoke. He was an old 
Glyndon student, but for the past two years he 
had attended another college. He had taken 
this Saturday to run up to visit Paytofi, for he 
and the young merchant were staunch friends. 

“If you think it right to play cards, Charley, 
how is it you are not taking a hand ?” 

As he thus spoke. Jack flashed Dixon one of 
those searching glances which the boys were 
wont to say “laid bare their very souls to his 
inspection.” 

“Well, I’m not quite clear about the right 
and the wrong of card-playing,” the young fel- 


A Danger Signal. 59 

low answered. ‘‘Eushton and I had a talk 
upon the subject just before we left Sewanee. 
He condemns the practice altogether, although 
a few months back he used sometimes to take a 
hand with us.” 

“What changed him?” 

“Something which changed us all, more or 
less. I’ll tell you about it after a while. Eush- 
ton has turned out a fellow after your own 
heart. Jack. He says he owes whatever he is 
more to you than to any other living man.” 

Payton’s face flushed with pleasure. Eush- 
ton was also an old Glyndon student, and one 
of Jack’s warm friends. 

“I’m glad to know he is doing well. I knew 
there was flne material in him.” 

“Come, Cranky, tell us what harm there is 
in cards. We will suspend our game until we 
hear your reasons. If you convince us, we’ll 
agree to burn our deck, and play no more. If 
you fail, we shall insist upon you and Charley 
taking a hand and helping us out.” 

It was Ned Holsten who spoke. 

Payton dropped into an easy chair, and, after 


60 


A Danger Signal. 


glancing sharply down the long store, to see 
that everything was being properly attended 
to, he began: ‘‘I suppose, Ned, you know the 
latest definition of a crank?” 

‘‘I’m not sure. What is it?” 

“ Something about which another fellow has 
a decided opinion, to which I have never given 
a thought.” 

A ringing laugh, at Holsten’s expense, greeted 
these words. He reddened a little, but, good- 
naturedly, said: “Pretty good. But give us 
your story, for I know there is a story. I see 
it in your eyes.” 

“You are right. It is not a short story, nor 
one I enjoy telling. However, if you will have 
patience — ” 

“ Go ahead.” ' 

“ Don’t palaver.” 

“Pitch in.” 

“We’re waiting.” 

Thus interrupted and encouraged, Jack be- 
gan : “ My home is in New Orleans. My father 
is a well-known physician there. He is a man 
whose integrity and honor no one, I think, has 


A Danger Signal. 


61 


ever doubted. He is also a Christian, and 
wields a wide influence for good. 

“Our household consisted of two brothers, 
two sisters and myself. Our mother died when 
we were but little chaps. I am the oldest, and 
I have but a faint remembrance of her. Her 
face, as I recall it, was angelic, and I know, 
from my father’s words, that her character 
must have been in keeping with her face. 
What her death meant to him and to us we 
shall never fully know.” 

Payton paused. His hearers’ sympathetic 
eyes were riveted upon his mobile counte- 
nance. The tenderest spot in any boy’s heart 
is where the image of his mother is impressed. 
For some minutes not a word was spoken. 
Each youth was conjuring up from memory 
the face dearest to him upon earth. At last 
Charley Dixon said, very gently, “Go on, old 
fellow.” 

“I beg your pardon. I had forgotten my 
story in the rush of old memories and associa- 
tions. 

“ Mine was a happy childhood and youth. An 


62 


A Danger Signal, 


aunt strove to fill my mother’s vacant place, and 
she petted and spoiled us to our hearts’ content. 

‘"My father had very decided ideas about the 
rearing of boys. He said that home must be 
made bright and attractive, else we would seek 
amusement elsewhere. All innocent diversions, 
as he considered them, were given us. We 
were all carefully trained in musid, and the way 
we made those walls ring with our solos, our 
duets and quartettes, only our long-suffering 
neighbors could tell.” 

“Was your father musical?” 

It was Holsten who put this query. 

“Decidedly so. He joined us in the even- 
ings, whenever his professional duties would 
permit. It is needless to say that we had jolly 
times. We were early taught to play cards. 
One of my earliest remembrances is seeing my 
father deal the cards, and then teaching us the 
various games. He told us it was ungentle- 
manly and wrong ever to put up stakes, but to 
play in the parlor with ladies was harmless. 
We were devoted to father, and thought him 
the best and wisest man on earth.” 


A Danger Signal, 


63 


“Naturally. He must be a brick,” said Harry 
Norton. He considered his own parents far too 
strict and straight-laced. 

Jack continued : “We often had card-parties, 
as we grew older. These and our parlor dancea 
were very popular. The best people in the city 
were our associates, and attended these gather- 
ings. When I was about eighteen, I made a 
new friend. His name was Dick Travers. Hia 
mother was a widow, and he was her only child. 
He was a handsome, wide-awake, splendid fel- 
low, and we all soon learned to love him.” 

Again Payton paused. The shadow in his 
eyes deepened, and a heavy sigh escaped him, 
as he proceeded with his narrative. 

“ My father was especially fond of him, and 
used to call him his ^ other son.’ 

“ The first time we asked him to play cards 
he refused. His refusal greatly nettled my 
father. Only those who joined us in the game 
were ever invited to these card-parties. Dick 
had been counted upon to help fill up a table. 
My father remonstrated with him, and told him 
the game was perfectly harmless. I added my 


64 


A Danger Signal. 


voice and entreaty, and the result was that 
Dick was induced to join us.” 

Once more Jack sighed. Charley Dixon 
echoed it, in sympathy with the evident pain 
this narrative cost his friend. Even Holsten 
looked very serious as the story was con- 
r. tinued. 

‘‘He learned to play more quickly than any 
one I ever saw. That first evening he won two 
games. We all congratulated him warmly, and 
he left us in fine spirits. 

“After that he never missed an evening when 
cards were to be handled. He developed into 
an extraordinary player, and soon won more 
games than all the rest of us put together. 
His whole soul seemed to centre in the game, 
and when he lost, his eyes would blaze with the 
most intense excitement. This amused my sis- 
ters, and they bantered him constantly upon 
his ‘master-passion,’ as they learned to term 
his remarkable fondness for cards.” 

“ When a fellow loves the game like that, 
he’d better swear off at once,” said Dixon. 
“ Any habit, especially any doubtful one, which 


A Danger Signal. 


65 


takes hold of one with such over-mastering 
power is dangerous.” 

‘‘I’m glad to hear you say that, Charley,” 
replied Jack. “Even then I had something of 
your feeling, but I never gave voice to it but 
once. This was one evening when Dick gaily 
proposed to play for pennies. I think my sis- 
ters would have agreed to his proposition, had 
not my father at once interfered. His words 
were quite stern, as he drew the line between 
gentlemanly playing and gambling. I could 
see that Dick was hurt, and he went away be- 
fore the evening was half spent. I followed 
him to the door, and, as gently as I could, urged 
him to give up cards. I shall never forget the 
scorn in his voice and his eyes as he said : 
‘ You are a pretty one. Jack, to advise that! 
You, who led me into it! No, sir! I’ve found 
out what a dunce I was not to have had this 
enjoyment long ago, and I’m not going to give 
it up just as I’ve learned what real fun is.’ ” 


5 


CHAPTEE II. 



IHIS is a hard story for me to finish^ 


-A- boys,” Payton said, as his listeners 
waited for him to continue. 

“ Yes ; one can see that Travers was a fool. 
I’ve no patience with such ill-balanced fellows,” 
cried Ned Holsten, hotly. 

“Nor I,” added Clarence Hawley, who was a 
cool-headed, rather phlegmatic,, youth. “Why 
can’t folks take life easily, and not run into 
extremes.” 

“All people are not put up like you, Hawley,” 
said Dixon. His interest in the story was al- 
most painful, and his sympathy with Payton 
was most evident. 

“After that night,” Jack resumed, “Dick 
never came back to us. We heard of him as 
consorting with some of the wildest fellows in 
the city. Father was greatly disgusted, and 
told me to ‘cut his acquaintance’ at once. I 
was saved the pain of obeying this command by 
Mrs. Travers suddenly removing from the city. 


A Danger Signal, 


67 


‘‘ I met her upon the street the day she left. 
She was a beautiful woman, but her face that 
morning struck me as being the saddest I ever 
looked upon. She plainly avoided speaking 
to me, and this hurt me. We had all shown 
her much attention, and I thoroughly liked her. 

‘‘Well, for two years we wholly lost sight of 
them. As I was on my way from New Orleans 
to Glyndon, the first time I visited this place, 
I passed through the city of Montgomery, and 
stayed over for a night and a day. I was look- 
ing for a good place in which to locate and 
start in business, and thought perhaps that city 
would answer. 

“As I was passing down the street, I sud- 
denly came face to face with Dick Travers. He 
was so changed that, for one moment, I failed 
to recognize him. His face was red and bloated, 
and his whole appearance was disreputable. 
But I really loved him, and, as I saw who it 
was, I put out my hand to him with all the 
warmth of other days. Imagine my chagrin 
when he coolly placed both his hands behind 
his back ! 


68 


A Danger Signal. 

‘‘‘Won’t you shake hands, Dick?’ I said, 
much pained. 

i "With you ? Never ! ’ 

“I cannot tell you the scorn and bitterness 
which were in his tones. I felt as if he had 
struck me. 

“‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘I have always been 
your friend.’ 

“ The laugh which greeted these words made 
me shiver. 

“ ‘ My fbiend ! ’ he said, in a tone of derision 
and sarcasm. ‘You mean my deadliest foe. 
Yes, sir! I am a ruined man, body and soul. 
And I owe it to you and to your white-livered 
father. A whited sepulchre he is, and you are 
another.’ 

“ And he poured out such a volley of curses 
and oaths as made me almost reel. I tried to 
stem the torrent of his wrath, but my words 
only angered him the more. 

“ ‘ My mother had taught me never to touch 
a card, nor taste wine,’ he hissed out. ‘She 
said, because of some hereditary taint in my 
blood, I could not safely tamper with such 


A Danger Signal, 


69 


things. I loved her as I loved my own sonl, 
and I heeded her counsel. I was never even 
tempted to disregard her words until that night 
I met your hypocrite of a falrher. I knew he 
Was a church member, and I believed he was a 
good man. I listened to him and to you, and 
now where am I ? In the gutter ; in hell ! ’ 

‘‘I cannot convey to you an idea of the wrath 
which possessed him. I could see that he had 
been drinking. He seemed to be possessed of a 
demon, which the sight of me aroused to insane 
fury. He went on, each word burning itseli 
into my brain, as if branded with a red-hot iron. 

“‘I have been in jail many times. My mo- 
ther’s heart broke two months’ ago. Yes, and 
you and your father are her murderers; yes, 
her MUEDEREKs! Do you hear? And I am a 
lost man — lost — lost for this world and for the 
world to come. My blood and my mother’s 
blood is upon you^ curse you! ’ ” 

Jack paused. The silence was oppressive. 
No one had the heart to speak. 

At last Dixon reached over and grasped his 
hand. This silent act of sympathy brought a 


70 


A Danger Signal, 


quick moisture to Jack’s eye. He passed his 
hand across his brow, and resumed : 

‘‘I need hardly say to you that that hour 
was the saddest of my life. He left me, refus- 
ing to listen to a word I could utter. 

‘‘I remained in Montgomery for three days, 
trying to trace him. I thought perhaps when 
he was not under the influence of liquor I might 
help him. But my search was unavailing, and 
no wonder; he went, the very night after our 
meeting, to Mobile. A week later I saw his 
name in the paper. He had been fatally shot 
in a gambling den. Thus ends my story.” 

‘‘And a horrible one it is,” said Harry Nor- 
ton, quickly. “I, for one, am done with cards. 
I don’t care much for them, anyway, and I’ll 
not run the risk of helping send some weak 
fellow to the bad, as poor Travers went. Ugh ! 
I should think, Payton, his ghost would haunt 
you every night.” 

“No words can tell what I have suffered,” 
Jack responded. His face looked five years 
older than when he entered the little office an 
hour before. 


A Danger Signal, 


71 


“ The telling of this story has cost me much/* 
he added. ‘‘ May our Captain use it, boys, to 
induce you to give up this dangerous game.” 

‘‘ Thank you for telling it,” said Ned Holsten, 
in a low voice. ‘‘I have a contempt for a fellow 
as easily led off as was Travers ; but here go the 
cards. The deck is mine, and it must burn.” 

As he spoke, he picked up the spotted bits 
of pasteboard, and tossed them into the open 
grate. As he did so, the others gathered about 
him. Some remonstrated, but the majority were 
with him. 

Dixon said, quite huskily: “From my soul, 
Jack, I thank you for the story. I now stand 
with Rushton. My influence henceforth shall 
ever be against those cards ‘dyed with men’s 
blood,’ as some one has aptly put it. I shall 
never again look upon a deck of them without 
seeing poor Travers’ blood upon them.” 

“Nor I,” added Norton. 

“It is hardly necessary for me to say,” Jack 
continued, “that cards are now banished from 
my father’s house. He felt poor Dick’s fato 
almost as keenly as did I.” 


72 


A Danger Signal. 


A clerk now summoned Payton into the store, 
and the students were left alone. An earnest 
discussion at once began among them, headed 
by Clarence Hawley. He still maintained that 
cards were harmless, and that Jack had been 
in nowise responsible for Travers’ fate. ‘‘A 
fellow put up like that would have been led off 
some time. Such a fool deserved his fate. It 
was only a matter of a year or two at most, and 
Payton is no end silly to feel as he does over 
the matter.” 

‘‘ That’s so,” agreed Sam Dickson. “ Still, I 
don’t fancy being the person to help lead such 
a fellow to the bad. I’m sure my sleep wouldn’t 
be sound after listening to such words as were 
poured into Jack’s ear. I believe I’ve played 
my last game.” 

Thus the entire number stood as a unit 
against Clarence. 

As they separated, Charley Dixon said : 
‘‘Since I left Glyndon, boys, I have found a 
Captain, under whose banner I have enlisted 
for life. I want to tell you what a joy it is to 
have this Captain for my friend, and to have 


A Danger Signal, 


73 


his help when I’m bothered and in trouble. 
He sticks close to a fellow, I can tell you, and 
never leaves one in the cold.” 

Charley’s face was quite radiant, and the up- 
ward glance of his eyes, as he spoke of his 

Captain,” left no doubt as to his meaning. 

Clarence Hawley said, just under his breath : 

Botheration. Who’d have thought of Dixon 
taking that line.” 

Harry Norton looked interested, and merry 
Ned Holsten said: ‘‘You’re a brick, Charley. 
I don’t go in for such things myself, though I 
intend to some day. But I like to see a fellow 
who sticks to his colors, and who is not afraid 
to run up his flag.” 

Dixon smiled. Don’t wait too long, Ned, 
before you enlist. It pays to serve such a 
Captain. I never want to do anything about 
which I’m not sure of his mind. Card-playing 
was one thing which put me on the fence. 
Now I know just where he wants me to stand, 
and I feel better. No more cards for me, now 
or ever.” 

This avowed allegiance to Christ made a pro- 


74 


A Danger Signal. 


found impression upon his hearers. They knew 
Charley to be a manly, merry fellow, full of fun 
and witticisms, and his bold words in favor of 
religion moved them as no sermon could have 
done. 

Why are young Christians so slow to avow 
their love and loyalty to the Master ? Their 
words of testimony often have more weight 
with their companions than all the sermons 
heard during a lifetime. 


THE 

SHOP AT BLACK’S CORNER. 



THE 


Shop at Black’s Corner. 


CHAPTEE I. 

HEN’S he cornin’, Jack?” 

VV “To-morrow.” 

The first speaker, Ned Holton, a man in the 
prime of life, looked thoughtfully at his com- 
panion. Jack Asbury was worth looking at. 

He was about seventeen years of age, firmly 
and compactly built. His eyes held a sparkle 
which told of courage and resolution, and the 
cleft in his finely-moulded chin expressed the 
same characteristic. His hair was daik and 
curly, his mouth like a model’s, and, taking him 
all together, he was as wholesome a looking 
lad as one often sees. 

He was standing in a blacksmith’s shop, and 
his rolled- up sleeves disclosed as strong and 
77 


78 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

muscular a pair of arms as was ever owned by a 
college athlete or a city gymnast. 

It did not seem possible, looking into his re- 
fined face, to believe him a blacksmith, yet 
such was his occupation. 

‘‘I don’t see a ghost of a chance fur ye, 
Jack,” Ned Holton said. 

‘‘I know; that’s the way everybody talks. 
But I’ll try, all the same. ‘Nothing venture, 
nothing win,’ is the way the old adage runs.” 

The boy smiled as he spoke, but the smile 
was not a cheery one. 

“Ef the new owner hed jist a-knowed yer 
father, it would be dif’rent,” the man continued. 
“Every one owned he ware the best blacksmith 
in the valley, an’ hit stands to reason you 
must be good at the trade, havin’ served under 
him fur so long.” 

“Ever since I was old enough to swing a 
hammer,” the lad said, with another faint smile. 

“ But Mr. Payton don’t know this, ye see, an’ 
ther’ll be nary chance for yore Mens ter tell 
him, ’cause Jake Brown air a-goin’ ter meet 
him at the cross-roads ez he cums, an’ beg fur 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 79 

the place. An’ Jake air built fur a blacksmith 
out an’ out, an’ you — wal — you don’t jis seem 
ter fit inter the notch whar ye b’long.” 

The boy glanced down eloquently at his 
bared arms, where the muscles stood out like 
whip-cords, but he spoke no word. The man 
laughed. 

‘^Tas, them’s good arms. I ’low thet much; 
but yer’d hardly make yore appler cation ter 
the young master with yore sleeves rolled up. 
Hit wouldn’t look right, ye see, an’ Jake looks 
the burly blacksmith all over. Better give up 
the idee. Jack, an’ try somethin’ else.” 

The vernacular of the Tennessee mountaineer 
was apparent in every word Ned Holton uttered. 
Jack Asbury’s speech was different. The cause 
of the difference might be explained by the fact 
that the lad’s parents were New Englanders, 
"whom failing health, before Jack’s birth, had 
driven southward. 

‘‘What else can I try?” the boy asked, with 
sudden passion. “I don’t know how to do 
anything but shoe horses. I can do that as 
well as my father did. I must get the place,” 


80 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

he added, vehemently. ‘‘There’s Bess and 
Alice coming. Don’t say a word about failure 
to them. Bess hasn’t an idea but that we shall 
stay just where we are, and that I shall fall 
right into father’s place.” 

As he ceased speaking, two little girls came 
into the shop. The elder was about fifteen, 
and the other was a tot of only three summers. 
Both bore so strong a resemblance to Jack 
that the relationship between them was at once 
apparent. 

Ned Holton’s rough face softened as he 
looked at them, and a mist dimmed his eyes. 
He drew a ripe pear from his pocket, and 
handed it to the baby, while the smile which 
curved his lips was as tender as a woman’s. 

“Say ‘thank you,’ Alice,” the elder girl 
prompted. 

The little one looked shyly up into the 
mountaineer’s kindly face, disclosing eyes of a 
deep violet, as she said, “ Sank-oo.” 

“Well, little mother, how goes the house- 
keeping?” merrily inquired Jack. 

His gay tone was assumed, but only Ned 
suspected this. 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 81 

‘‘Very nicely,” responded Bess, “only I need 
a lot of things. I’m so glad Mr. Payton is 
coming to-morrow. Then this tiresome wait- 
ing will be over. You must buy me some 
raisins. Jack, the first thing, and I will make a 
rice pudding. We haven’t had one since — 
since papa left us.” 

Her voice broke a little on the last words, 
but she bravely forced back some starting tears. 

“ Me — doin’ — see — papa — soon,” prattled 
Alice ; “ me — dood — baby.” 

“So you are,” said Jack, patting her curly 
head. “ What would ‘ little mother ’ and bro- 
ther do without you ? ” 

These children had read Little Dorritt, and 
Jack had affectionately applied that unselfish 
little being’s home name, “little mother,” to 
Bess. This delighted the child, and in all pos- 
sible ways she tried to emulate the beautiful 
character which the greai novelist has so sim- 
ply and clearly drawn. 

Ned Holton turned and strode abruptly 
away. He muttered aloud as he got beyond 
hearing : “ Ter think o’ them children havin’ 


82 The Shop at Black's Comer, 

nuther father nur mother alivin’ ! An’ Jack ez 
good ez turned out’n the shop ! Things does 
go mighty cu’yus somehow in this world. An’ 
John Asbury ez good a man ez ever walked.” 

And then he doubled up his big fist and 
struck into space, as he continued, in a louder 
tone : I’d like ter knock Jake Brown so fur 

away thet he couldn’t git back ter save his life 
in time ter rob thet boy o’ his rights — a 
sneakin’, loafin’, good-fur-naught air Jake. 
But he do know how ter shoe a hoss. I’m 
willin’ ter ’low thet much. An’ he’ll git the 
shop. Nary chance fur pore little Jack, I’m 
afeared.” 

The mountaineers have a peculiar, swinging 
gait, which enables them to cover long dis- 
tances with ease and swiftness. Ned was tall 
and lank, and his length of limb soon carried 
him far from the shop and its interesting group 
of inmates. His mind partially turned from 
Jack Asbury and his troubles to his own hopes 
and prospects. When he reached home he 
said to his wife : ‘‘ I’m hopin’ ter git the gar- 
denin’ from Mr. Payton, the same ez I had 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 83 

from his uncle. I’m the best gard’ner any whar 
'bout this valley. Everybody ’lows thet’s true. 
Mr. Bell, who air still a-lookin’ arter things at 
the hall ’till the new owner comes, sed ter day 
ez how he’d tell the young master ’bout me, an’ 
how much store Mr. Parker alius sot by me.” 

“Mr. Bell air a kind man,” the woman re- 
plied; “wi’ him ter speak for ye, p’raps ye’ll 
git the place. Hit’ll be a hard winter fur us ef 
ye don’t.” 

“I ware a-thinkin’,” continued Ned, in a 
musing tone, “ef I gits the gardenin’ an’ 
truckin’ ter do, we mought feel able ter help 
Jack Asbury an’ his sisters a leetle. He air 
a-goin’ ter lose the shop, sarten, onless Provi- 
dence stands close by him. Jake Brown hev 
swore he air a-goin’ ter git hit, an’ Jake air a 
man ez means what he says. An’ Jake air a 
good blacksmith, while Jack air only a boy. 
I’m afeared Mr. Payton won’t think o’ lettin’ 
sich a lad keep the shop.” 

“Hit’ll seem hard fur him ter be turned 
out,” the woman answered, busy over the 
stove. “Ef he air, an’ the good Lord gives 


84 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

you the work at the hall, hit’ll only be right 
fur us ter help him. He air a likely boy, an* 
the gals is ez smart an’ pretty ez pinks.” 

Her husband heaved a sigh of relief. He 
had not been quite sure how she would take his 
proposition. They had four children to care 
for, and money was scarce. 

Yer’s a good woman, Maggie,” he said, as 
he reached up and took down the family Bible 
from the shelf upon which it always lay. He 
opened it, and began to pore over its well-worn 
pages. 

These people, humble as they were, were 
simple-hearted, earnest Christians. This Bible 
was their only book ; they prized it as their one 
^reat treasure. 


CHAPTEE IL 


'T’UST eight o’clock ; and Mr. Payton is ex- 
^ pected at the cross-roads at ten. I must 
soon be oflf,” said Jack Asbury to himself the 
following morning. 

He had been at work in the shop. The fire 
was still red, and the sound of his anvil had 
been heard for over an hour. This shop was 
situated at a turn of the highway called by the 
people of the vicinity ‘‘ Black’s Corner.” While 
it stood in a seemingly lonely and isolated po- 
sition on the edge of a forest, with no house 
visible but the cottage occupied by Jack and 
his sisters, it was really in the centre of a 
thickly-settled neighborhood. It was also close 
to the Parker plantation, one of the largest and 
richest farms in the valley. To this shop was 
given all the blacksmith work of the plantation, 
and the stand was considered the best in the 
entire county. 

As Jack was taking off his apron preparatory 
85 


86 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

to departure, he heard the sound of horses’ 
hoofs. He stepped to the door. 

Two horsemen drew rein. One was a stout, 
middle-aged man, with a kindly, jovial face; 
the other was younger, with a countenance 
which at once caught Jack’s fancy. 

‘^Where’s the blacksmith ? ” asked the younger 
of the two. 

Then, seeing the apron still suspended to 
Jack’s waist, and noting the grime upon his 
hands, he added : 

“ Can you shoe a horse ? ” 

“ That’s my trade,” modestly replied Jack. 
‘‘ Squire Tanner has seen me shoe a horse.” 
This last was said with a quick glance and 
smile directed toward the older man. 

‘‘ Bless my heart ! It’s Jack. I didn’t know 
you ; how you’ve grown. Yes, John, he can do 
your work,” he added, turning to his friend. 
‘‘ His father was out of the shop once a year or 
so ago when my horse cast a shoe just as I 
passed the door. The lad did the work well, 
and greatly obliged I was to him, for I was in 
haste, just as we are to-day.” 


The Shop at Black" s Corner, 87 

The young man looked dissatisfied. 

‘‘ But my mare is spirited. She objects to 
having her feet handled.” 

The animal was a magnificent thoroughbred. 
Jack’s eyes kindled as he noted her beauty. 
The next moment he remembered Mr. Payton 
and the cross-roads, and said: ‘‘There’s an- 
other shop some three miles farther on.”' 

“ You’re afraid to undertake the job, are 

your- 

The question was almost a sneer, and the 
young man restlessly flicked a fly from his 
horse’s ear as he spoke. 

Jack’s eyes flashed, but he answered, quietly : 
“ No, sir. I’m in something of a hurry, though ; 
but if you will trust your horse to me I can 
shoe her.” 

It cost him an effort to say this, for he knew 
it was full time he was on the road. But he 
had noticed that the animal limped. Her loose 
shoe hurt her. If her owner rode her to the 
next shop before it was removed he knew she 
might be seriously injured. The young man 
dismounted without further words, merely say- 


88 The Shop at Black's Comer, 

ing, as lie glanced around the shop, “ Have 
you no assistant ? 

“Sometimes,” was the lad’s brief reply. 
“ To-day I am alone. I had expected to close 
the shop before this.” 

He quietly made his preparations, while the 
two men watched him. Then he stepped to 
the animal’s head and gently took the bridle 
from her master’s hand. He spoke to the rest- 
less creature, who laid back her small ears at 
his voice and touch, and made a movement as 
though to bite his arm. He laughed, and softly 
patted her head, then, still talking to her, rub- 
bed her nose. She became quiet. He drew a 
lump of sugar from his pocket ; she took it 
daintily. His voice, his touch, and the sugar 
won her. She rubbed her nose against his 
breast and gave a low neigh. She was asking 
him for another lump of*the sugar. Jack gave 
a laugh of satisfaction. “ No, my lady ; no 
more just now. After a while, if you are good, 
you shall have another piece.” 

“You love horses,” the stranger said, his 
whole bearing towards the lad changed. 


The Shop at Blades Corner. 89 

‘‘Yes, sir; that is why I like to shoe them. 
And they love me.” 

‘‘ It is quite wonderful how Silverheels takes 
to you. She is usually impatient of all 
strangers,” the young man continued, watching 
Jack’s movements with great interest. 

‘‘Jack is like his father, a born blacksmith,” 
said the Squire, well pleased with the prospect 
of speedily getting his friend upon the road 
again. “ Where is your father. Jack? ” 

The boy winced. He had, by gentleness, 
coaxing and patience, succeeded in getting the 
spirited animal to allow him to handle her foot. 
He deftly removed the loose shoe before he re^ 
plied : “ In heaven, sir. He died over a month 
ago.” 

His voice was low. His face was concealed 
from view, and neither of his listeners suspected 
how deeply the question moved him. 

Forgive me. I had not heard. He was a 
good man and a fine blacksmith. I’m sorry 
he’s gone.” 

The Squire was a kind-hearted man, though 
bluff in his ways. Not dreaming how his words 


90 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

cut into the boy’s heart, he continued; ‘‘What 
are you going to do ? Follow his trade ? ” 

Jack did not at once reply. He was attempt- 
ing to pare the hoof from which he had just re- 
moved the shoe. The animal objected to this. 
Suddenly she gave a kick and a plunge, which, 
had Jack not been on his guard, would have 
knocked him over. His alertness saved him, 
and his presence of mind made him master of 
the situation. 

The door of the shop stood open. As he 
stepped from the reach of the mare’s hoof, 
without a moment’s pause he sprang to the 
large door and swung it to. With an angry 
snort the beautiful creature rushed towards the 
closing aperture to escape. She was met by 
the intrepid boy, who, unmindful of her ears, 
which were laid back viciously, reached out 
and firmly seized her by the bridle. She made 
a swift movement as though to bite him, and 
this time she really did nip his shirt with her 
teeth. He spoke to her in a tone entirely dif- 
ferent from his former one. It was low but 
firm, and the gentle strength which pervaded 


Tlie Shop at Black's Corner, 91 

it bore immediate fruit. The mare dropped 
her head as though in shame. 

‘‘ She knows she has been vicious,” said her 
master, with a smile, ‘‘ and she is mortified be- 
cause of her bad behavior.” 

Jack laughed, and again patted her neck and 
rubbed her nose. When he felt that she had 
reached a proper stage of penitence he fed her 
with another lump of sugar. 

‘‘You’ve conquered her,” said the young 
man, quietly. The words were not much, but 
his eyes spoke volumes. 

“Yes; but it will be best for me to wait a 
bit and let her know me a little better before I 
finish the job. How old is she? ” 

“Four years old last June.” 

Jack gave her another lump of sugar, and 
then, very gently, he began to rub and handle 
her feet, talking to her all the time. He lifted 
first one foot and then another, tapping each 
hoof as he did so, until he came to the one on 
which he was to continue working. 

“ You are an adroit blacksmith,” said the 
young man, with a laugh ; “ if you studied men 


92 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

as you do horses, you would make a good law- 
yer.” 

“Aye! so he would,” the Squire said, heart- 
ily ; “ why don’t you aim for something higher 
than shoeing horses. Jack ? The law is a 
noble profession, and I believe, from your ways, 
you would make your mark if you entered it.” 

“ I prefer to be a blacksmith,” was the lad’s 
reply. 


CHAPTEK III. 


OULD you mind holding the mare’s 
^ ▼ head, sir, while I finish paring her 
hoof?” 

Jack’s question was addressed to the young 
man, who at once stepped to the animal’s head. 

“I’m sorry to trouble you, but she needs 
some one there. The boy who usually helps 
me is off for the day. Please talk to her, sir, 
and rub her nose while I am at work.” 

He gave his entire attention to the hoof for 
the next few moments, and not a word was 
spoken but the caressing ones of the stranger 
addressed to his horse. 

When the hoof was prepared, and the shoe 
had been fitted. Jack said, with a quick glance 
at the Squire : “ Now I will answer your ques- 
tion, sir. I hope to follow my father’s trade, 
but my plans are not very deeply laid as yet ; 
I would rather have this shop and shoe horses, 
though, than do anything else.” 

“ Do you own the shop ? ” 

93 


'94 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

It was the young man who asked this ques- 
tion. 

‘‘No, sir; it belonged to Mr. Parker. Since 
he died I am told a Mr. Payton comes into 
possession of it, as well as into all the rest of 
his uncle’s property.” 

The stranger looked interested. 

“Have you ever met the new heir?” 

“No, sir; I hope to see him this morning, 
unless I am too late. Some one else is going 
to apply for the shop — a full-grown man — but 
I am hoping, somehow, the new master will 
give it to me. Why I dare hope it I hardly 
know.” 

He laughed a trifle bitterly as he thought 
how slight his chances were of success. 

“I know Payton well; he’s a cross-grained 
fellow, so you need not build much hope on 
him. Who is the other applicant ? ” 

“Jake Brown. He is a good smith, I must 
admit that ; but he doesn’t love horses as my 
father did, nor can he manage them so well.” 

“You seem to have caught your father’s 
knack,” the young man said. 


The Shop at Blaches Corner, 95^ 

He glanced in a pleased way at the mare. 
She was still nervous, as her frequent starts 
proved, but she evidently trusted the one who- 
was handling her. 

“Payton isn’t as bad as John would make 
out,” said the Squire, coming up and standing 
by Jack’s side. “I know him. He’s a first- 
rate fellow, though a bit cranky at times. Don’t 
lose heart. Jack. I’ll speak a good word for 
you, if necessary, and John, here, won’t forget 
you when he sees Payton. He’ll be sure to tell 
him how nicely you’ve handled this skittish 
beast of his. You’re done now, aren’t you?” 

Both men were impatient to be off. Jack 
was no less so. He glanced at the shoe he had 
just nailed to the animal’s foot, and then looked 
up at the sun. It must now be past nine o’clock. 

Por one moment he hesitated. There was a 
nail which he knew was not perfectly right; 
but the shoe might stay in place for a long time, 
unless the horse was ridden rapidly over a 
rough road. But he knew it would not be a 
well-finished piece of work. This thought 
steadied his wavering resolution. 


96 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

“No, I’m not done yet,” he said, quickly. 
“Here is a nail that must come out and be put 
in over again. I’m sorry to detain you, and 
sorry to detain myself, but I can’t let a piece 
of bad work go out of my shop. My father 
taught me that, as well as how to shoe a horse.” 

Both men looked sharply into his face, but 
made no response. 

After a moment’s silence the Squire asked: 
“Who did you say the fellow is that is going to 
try and get the shop from you ? ” He was impa- 
tiently striking his riding-whip against his boot, 
while he watched the lad draw out the crooked 
nail. 

“Jake Brown; he used to have a shop at 
Farwell a year or so ago.” 

“Tes ; I recollect him. A good smith, too. 
Looks as if he was born for the work. Never 
had a thought in his life above shoeing a horse. 
I’ll be bound.” 

Jack’s face flushed. He recalled Ned Hol- 
ton’s words, and he fancied the Squire was 
thinking the same thing. For the moment he 
almost envied Jake his coarse, burly proper- 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 97 

tions. The next, he laughed pleasantly and 
said: ‘‘Yes; Jake is a typical blacksmith. 
When I see him, I always recall Longfellow’s 
poem of the ‘Village Smithy.’ He looks as if 
he might have stood for the picture.” 

“ So you read Longfellow, do you ? ” 

It was the young man who asked this ques- 
tion. The quizzical glance which accompanied 
the words nettled Jack for the instant. He 
quickly answered: “Yes, sir; and I enjoy him. 
My father always told me that, because a man 
was a blacksmith was no reason why he should 
not be a gentleman, and a scholar, too, if he 
wished. He taught me to read Virgil as well 
as to shoe horses. Perhaps you think the two 
do not go well together.” 

“If such a thought was in my mind, I re- 
cant,” the young man said. His tone was 
apologetic. He saw he had wounded the lad. 
“I see no reason why you should not read 
Longfellow and Virgil, if you choose. Such 
reading evidently has not kept you from be- 
coming an expert at your trade. I confess it 
is not common to connect the two, but I can 
7 


98 The Shop at Black! s Corner, 

see no possible objection, if your tastes lead 
you to do so.” 

Jack made no reply. He was distinctly ruf- 
fled by what had passed. He continued his 
work in silence. The Squire again spoke : 
‘‘What is Jake Brown doing now? What be- 
came of his shop at Farwell?” 

Jack hesitated a moment before he replied: 
“A man by the name of Hicks has the shop. 
Jake is not doing anything just now. He’s 
anxious to get this stand, for he knows it is the 
best one in the county.” 

“Well, if he gets it, Payton will have a good 
smith to attend to his work. The new owner 
is a rusher, and he’s going to make people open 
their eyeS when he comes. I wish you were a 
few years older. Jack, there would be a better 
chance for you. You are rather young to have 
sole charge of such an important shop as this.” 

The Squire looked kindly into the lad’s face 
as he spoke. Jack smiled back at him cheerily. 
There was something about Squire Tanner 
which affected people much as a gleam of sun- 
shine brightens one on a cloudy day. 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 99 

“Well, sir, time will remedy that defect. 
This can’t be said of everything or of every 
person,” was the lad’s reply. 

“Why not?” 

It was the young man who asked this ques- 
tion, and his keen eyes looked the boy over 
from head to foot, as he awaited his answer. 

“Because, if a fellow drinks and gambles, 
and contracts other bad habits, time, instead 
of remedying these evils, is pretty sure to in- 
crease them.” 

“That’s true,” laughed the Squire. “Well, 
your father’s son could hardly be guilty of bad 
habits. I’m glad time is your friend. Jack, 
and I hope he will bring you success and 
fortune.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” was the boy’s answer, given 
with a beaming face. 

He had found that some other little finishing 
touches were needed to make the shoeing oi 
the horse complete, besides the removal and 
replacing of the defective nail. He now an- 
nounced the work finished. 

As the young stranger paid for the job, he 


100 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

said, with a kind glance into the boy’s face: 
“ That shoe is well put on. Silverheels was 
never so well-behaved before while being shod. 
When I see Payton I’ll speak a good word for 
yon. But don’t count on him; he’s a queer 
fellow.” 

Off they rode, and Jack quickly prepared to 
follow. 


CHAPTEE IV. 


OT much use in going now,” Jack said, 



-L A after he had washed, removed his apron 
and put out the fire. ‘‘ But I’ll not give it up. 
Mr. Payton may be late as well as I, and, any- 
how, I shall feel better to be on the move.” 

It was a lovely day in autumn. Jack had 
an eye for beauty, and as he trudged along the 
highway he noted, with keen delight, the 
deepening tints of the forests. 

“Not much frost yet, but the woods grow 
lovelier every day,” he said, aloud. 

He had been walking for some time, and 
with great rapidity. He drew off his coat, 
threw it over his arm, and went on. 

“Who ye talkin’ to, youngster?” 

The voice proceeded from a clump of bushes 
by the roadside. The lad started, and glanced 
sharply around. 

A red-faced, burly fellow of some twenty-five 
years sat on a stump grinning at him. 

“Good morning, Mr. Brown,” said Jack, 


101 


102 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

coolly, as lie perceived who had addressed 
him. 

‘‘My! how werry perlite he air. Too fine a 
dandy for shoein’ bosses. I say, Bub, whar 
ye goin’ in sich a hurry? ” 

“About my own affairs,” curtly replied Jack. 

“ Oh, ho! so he’s not all perliteness, arter all, 
air he? Might I ax, air ye a-goin’ ter the 
cross-roads ter meet the young boss? Ef ye 
air, ye may save yerself the trouble; he’s done 
gone, and the shop air mine.” 

Jack winced, but said, quickly: “How long 
since he passed?” 

“ ’Bout two hours. He corned airly. I done 
a good part by ye. Jack. I told him ’bout ye; 
but he ’lowed he didn’t want no boy ter hev 
charge o’ the hoss-shoein’ on his plantation; 
so the shop air gin ter me, an’ ye mought ez 
well turn about an’ go home.” 

“ I wouldn’t believe you on oath, Jake Brown, 
so I’ll not trouble to turn back until I’ve gone 
where I started for,” Jack replied. 

“Jis ez ye choose; but ye better save yer 
shoe-leather ; hit’ll be a good spell afore ye gits 


The Shop at Black's Corner. 103 

another pair, ef ye depends on shoein’ bosses at 
Black’s Corner ter git money ter buy ’em with ; 
but p’rhaps ye’ve hed a windfall, an’ air now 
a-strikin’ fur somethin’ higher’n shoein’ bosses. 
Ye looks for all the world. Bub, like a dudee ; 
ye does, sho’. Ho ! ho ! ho ! ” 

The man’s coarse laughter stirred Jack’s 
heart stormily, but he went on without reply- 
ing. 

‘‘Ef ye should run up wi’ the new boss, tell 
him I’ll be on hand ter open the shop airly in 
the mawnin.’ So, ye move out. D’ye hear? 
I’ll be there, sho’.” 

The lad walked on in silence. His thoughts 
were not enviable ones. It was possible the 
man told the truth. 

A boy whom Jack knew soon came from the 
direction of the cross-roads. Jack hailed him. 

“Just from the cross-roads, Tom? ” he asked. 

“Yas; been thar sence daylight. Dad wuz 
ter hev come on with a cow, an’ I wuz ter help 
turn her down our way. But he haint got 
along. I’s jis walkin’ on ter meet him. Seed 
anythin’ o’ him ez ye corned along?” 


104 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

Jack answered in the negative, and then said : 
‘‘ Did yon notice Jake Brown at the cross-roads 
this morning?” 

Yas ; he ware at the tavern fur quite a spell, 
drinkin’ beer, and crackin’ jokes, and swearin’ 
He air a bad man.” 

“Did you see him talking to any stranger?” 
questioned Jack. 

He was anxious to see how much truth there 
had been in Jake’s statement about his having 
met the young landlord. 

“ ’Deed I did. A han’sum young chap, but 
pow’ful weeked. He ware talkin’ agin the 
Bible, and Jake he agreed in every word he 
said. Dunno how folks dares talk in sich a 
way/’ 

“ It certainly is disgusting,” Jack said. 

“ So hit air, sho ! God hed the Bible writ 
hisself, so in cose hit’s true. Schoolin’ hain’t 
alius a blessin’, ez dad ’lows, fur this young 
gent hed lamin’, plenty o’ hit, but he air the 
weeckedest pusson I ever hearn talk. He 
^wore wuss’n Jake. Hit ’jis made me mad ter 
hear ’em, an’ I corned out’n the tavern an’ 


The Shop at BlacFs Corner, 105 

waited on the big road fnr dad an’ the cow. 
Dad ’lows hits like eaten’ pizen ter listen ter 
sich folks talk.” 

‘‘ Your father is right, Tom,” was his listen- 
er’s prompt answer. ‘‘ My father taught me 
the same thing. He loved the Bible, and the 
one he used to read in is lying on a little shelf 
in the shop now. He always kept it out there 
‘to lunch on,’ as he said. He read out of 
mother’s at prayers. It hurts me to hear any 
one speak against God’s book. I’m sorry the 
young landlord is that kind of a man. I’m not 
surprised to hear it about Jake, though.” 

“Naw; he’s a no ’count feller, sho’. But 
folks sets store by him, ’cause he air full o’ 
jokes, an’ he air a proper good blacksmith, dad 
’lows. Goin’ ter the tavern ? ” 

Jack had started on down the road. He 
turned and answered : “ Yes ; I have an errand 
there, and I’ll go on. Had the young stranger 
left before you came away, Tom ? ” 

The mountain lad scratched his head and 
pondered. “ I forgot ter notice,” he replied, at 
last. “ Jake Brown air gone, I know, ’cause he 


106 The Shop at Blades Corner, 

twitted me ’bout my red liar ez he passed me. 
The stranger may be at the tavern yit ; I dunno. 
Lots o’ people air thar ter-day.” 

‘‘ Much obliged. I hope you’ll get along all 
right with the cow when your father comes, 
said Jack, and walked on. 

It must be confessed that his hopes were not 
very buoyant, yet he must not lose the possible 
chance of getting the shop. 

‘‘It’s quite probable, after all, that Jake told 
the truth,” he thought. “ Such a man as Tom 
describes Mr. Payton to be would not hesitate 
to give the shop to Jake. Kindred spirits 
Well, I’m glad I belong to a different class. 
My father’s son could hardly feel at home with 
such men.” 

He lifted his head with an air of pride, al- 
though his face looked troubled. “If I lose 
the shop, where in the w^'orld can I take Bess 
and Alice,” he said, speaking aloud. No 
answer came, and he walked briskly on, still 
pondering the question. When he reached the 
cross-roads no stranger was visible. He went 
to the tavern. Several mountaineers were 


107 


The Shop at BlacKs Corner, 

there ; and two stable-boys, whom Jack knew 
well, strolled up to the porch when they saw 
him. He asked them about the young land- 
lord. All this property had belonged to Mr. 
Parker, and now passed into his nephew’s 
hands. 

“ Naw ; the young boss hain’t been by. He 
was to hev cum, but he done missed somehow,” 
was the answer he received. 

‘‘ He’s done gone another way,” said a smart- 
looking young negro who had just come up. 

He’s at de hall now. Pete seed him ride in. 
Car’s big doin’s down dar, dey say, ter welcome 
him — roast pig, an’ turkey, an’ possum, an’ ice- 
cream, an’ all sich. Wish’t I b’longed on dat 
plantation.” 

In spite of his weariness and his feeling of 
discouragement, Jack could not restrain a laugh 
at the emphasis with which the boy ran over 
the viands prepared for the young master’s 
welcome at the hall. It was rendered still 
more amusing by the comical manner in which 
he rolled his eyes as he mentioned each new 
delicacy. It rolled a burden from Jack’s 


108 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

heart to find that the stranger whom Tom 
Weaver had seen was not Mr. Payton. Further 
inquiries revealed the fact that this stranger 
was from a neighboring city, and was only pass- 
ing through the country on a business trip. 

So, after all, Mr. Payton may be a good 
man, like his uncle,” Jack thought, a feeling of 
hope stealing into his heart. It’s plain Jake 
Brown didn’t tell the truth. To-morrow I’ll go 
to the hall bright and early and make my ap- 
plication. It would hardly be the right thing 
to intrude upon him to-day, just as he is enjoy- 
ing his fine dinner. I wonder how he likes the 
’possum.” 


CHAPTEE V. 


HE next morning Jack was up betimes. 



-L He bad told Bess of his plan to call at 
the hall, and she promised to give him an early 
breakfast. He had some little errands to at- 
tend to, so, long before the sun had peeped 
over the hill-tops, he was out, inhaling the 
fresh air, and trudging briskly towards the shop. 
It was some quarter of a mile from the cottage, 
and as he walked along he whistled merrily. 
Youth is ever buoyant, and a good night’s rest 
had greatly revived Jack’s spirits. ‘^Father 
always said that God was especially watchful 
over orphans,” he said, as he neared the shop. 
He had a habit. of talking aloud when alone, 
about which Bess often teased him. His 
thoughts ran on, and he continued to utter 
them aloud. remember a promise in the 
Bible which he read to me not long before he 
died ; and he marked it, too. I wonder if I 
could find it ! I feel, some way, as if it would 


109 


110 The Shop at Blades Corner, 

help me to read it over.” As he placed the 
key in the lock he again began to whistle. A 
familiar voice said : 

‘‘A whistlin’ boy mos’ ginerally thinks he 
hez a good time ahead. What’s happened ter 
lift ye np so high this mawnin’, Bub ? ” 

Jack’s start of surprise caused the speaker, 
who was no less a person than Jake Brown, to 
burst into a loud laugh. 

^‘Ez skeery ez a gal,” he said, derisively. 

P’rhaps ye air a gal,” he added, maliciously ; 
‘‘yer’s high-steppin’ enough to be one, sho’.” 

“If you* will kindly tell me your business I 
shall be glad,” Jack said, as he threw open the 
shop door. 

“ Sartenly. I’s werry agreeable ’long thar. 
My biz’ness air told in few words. I’s cum ter 
take possession an’ open the shop fur the 
young boss.” 

Jack looked into the man’s shrewd, laughing 
face in amazement. Could it be possible, after 
all, that he had seen Mr. Payton, and had 
really gotten the shop ? Jake read the sur- 
prise and perplexity in the boy’s face, and im- 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 111 

mediately added : ‘‘ Didn’t I tell ye yisterday 
the shop ware mine ? ” 

“ Yes ; and yon told me something else,” said. 
Jack, quickly. “ You said that you had met 
Mr. Payton at the cross-roads. I found this 
was not true. He did not pass by there at all, 
but went to the hall by another road. If you 
failed to tell me the truth in one thing, why 
should I believe you in the other ? ” 

‘‘Purty good reasonin’, only ye got started 
wrong. I didn’t tell ye I seed the boss at the 
tavern. I met him on t’other road, accidental, 
ez hit ware. I ’lowed to find him at the tav- 
ern, an’ ware headed that a-way when he 
cotched up wi’ me. I knowed who he ware^ 
an’ I axed him at onct about the shop. I done 
tolt ye yisterday what he said. The shop air 
mine.” 

There was a shrewd twinkle in the man’s 
eyes which made Jack half disbelieve his 
words, yet how could he prove them false ? 

“When I hear from Mr. Payton’s own lips 
that he has given the shop to you I’ll give you 
possession,” the lad said, at last. 


112 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 


‘‘ Now, Bub, don’t ye go ter try in’ ter mek me 
mad, ’cause bit won’t pay nary cent. Ef yore 
willin’ ter go inter the shop ’long wi’ me, I’s 
willin’ ter take ye in. This air what I ware 
’lowerin’ ter propose at fust, only ye has sich 
high ways ye put me out. I’s been a-studdyin’ 
’bout ye, an’ I knows ye hev got nuthin’ ’ter live 
on, now the shop air gone.” 

He paused for a moment, and furtively looked 
into his listener’s face. Then he continued : 

Ez I said, I’s willin’ fur ye ter be my pardner 
ef ye wants ter be, but ye mus’ keep a civil 
tongue in yore head, sho’. Or I’ll hev ter turn 
ye out.” 

Jack gazed into the coarse face before him 
in mute surprise. Was it possible that he 
wronged Jake Brown, and that the man had a 
heart after all ? Had he spoken the truth, and 
was the shop really gone ? A great lump came 
into his throat. He walked to the door and 
looked out. The sun was just rising over the 
hills, and a great flood of light bathed valley 
and forest in a blaze of glory. But Jack had 
no thought for this now. His heart was saying 


The Shop at Black's Corner. 113 

over and over, ‘‘ Turned out ! turned out ! 
Where can I take Bess and Alice ? Must we 
starve ? ” 

Jake’s voice broke in upon his thoughts : 

Ef ye choose ter keep the cottage, ye kin. I 
kin board with ye, an’ we kin go halves in all 
we meks. This air a good stand, an’ hit’s goin’ 
ter be better than ever afore. Ther say ez how 
the new boss air goin’ ter put fifty mo’ head o’ 
mule on the plantation fust thing. Thar’ll be 
plenty o’ work fur us both.” 

For a moment Jack felt stifled. The thought 
of Bess and Alice without a home, without 
food, almost broke him down. 

“ Suppose I refuse your offer,” he said, at 
last. 

But ye won’t,” the man answered, in easy 
confidence ; ‘‘yer not sich a fool.” 

“ But if I should,” Jack persisted. 

“ Then ye’d hev ter turn out’n this shop an’ 
the house ter-day ; yes, within two hours.” 

Jack knew the fellow to be a bully, and he 
did not doubt but that he meant just what he 
said. For a moment the boy wavered. 

8 


114 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

Then, like a flash, he recalled Tom Weaver’s 
account of Jake’s talk in the tavern. Could he 
permit such a man to become an inmate of 
their home? Could he expose Bess and Alice 
to the influence of such a being? 

Jake, who was furtively watching him, saw 
that a terrible struggle was taking place in the 
boy’s heart. He did not doubt for one moment 
what the final result would be, but he thought 
he would aid matters by baiting his hook a lit- 
tle more. He said, in a reflective tone : “Arter 
a while, when we hev made a nice little pile o’ 
money, I mought draw out an’ leave ye the 
shop ter yoreself. I’s been wantin’ ter go into 
hoss-tradin’ down in Texas fur quite a spell, 
and when I gits somethin’ ahead ter buy a few 
bosses with, I shall, mos’ likely, start out. Ye 
could jine me in this, ef ye wanted ter, an’ 
what, wi’ the shop and the hoss-dealin’, ye 
mought be rich in a few years.” 

Jack turned and looked the man intently in 
the face. What he there read of coarseness, 
cunning and greed helped to steady him. 

And then, in an instant, over his mental 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 115 

vision there flashed some words he had years 
ago learned from his mother’s Bible. They 
ran thus : Come ye out, and be ye separate, 
saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean 
thing.” 

He almost felt as if an audible voice had 
spoken the solemn words. 

He walked straight to the little shelf where 
his father’s Bible lay, and placed his hand upon 
its well-worn cover. The touch gave him 
strength. He then said, in a low. Arm voice : 
‘‘I utterly refuse your offer, Jake Brown. I 
don’t know why you make it. If I have 
wronged you in believing you to be a bad, un- 
principled man, I beg your, pardon; but I can- 
not be your partner; I will starve. first.” 

A flame of angry passion swept over Jake’s 
face. He clenched his burly fists and said, be- 
tween his teeth : Hev a care, youngster, how 
ye talk. I could twist off yore neck ez easy ez 
I could bend my finger.” 

Just then steps were heard, and the next in- 
stant Bess stood in the shop door. 

‘^I’ve waited and waited for you, Jack,” she 


116 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 


cried, breathlessly, not noticing Jake’s presence. 
‘‘Breakfast is almost cold, and you’ll be late in 
getting oflf.” 

“Where be ye goin’?” Jake quickly de- 
manded, suspiciously taking a step towards 
Jack. A very devil looked out of his eyes as 
he fixed them upon the lad’s firm counte- 
nance. 

“That is my own affair,” Jack calmly an- 
swered, going to his sister’s side and placing 
his hand upon her shoulder. 

“Eun back, Bess, I’ll be home in a minute,” 
he said, in a low voice. “ Don’t wait, or Alice 
may try to follow you. The frost is melting, 
and she may get her feet wet and have croup 
to-night.” 

But something in Jake Brown’s angry face 
and threatening air had frightened the girl. 
She clung to Jack and said, in a whisper: 
“Come home with me now; I don’t want to 
leave you here with that man.” 

Before the lad could reply, horses’ hoofs were 
heard, and Ned Holton, mounted on a trim- 
looking mule, drew rein before the shop door. 


The Shop at Blade's Corner, 117 

At sight of him Jake Brown, without further 
word, slunk out of the shop, and disappeared 
down the road. 

‘‘I’ve come ter take ye down ter the hall,” 
Ned said to Jack, after he had greeted Bess. 
“I’ve hed a call ter work thar, an’ I ’lowed I’d 
carry ye ’long. Ye kin talk over matters ’bout 
the shop with the young master this mawnin’, 
’fore other folks gits ahead o’ ye.” 

Jack thanked him for his kind thought, and 
the mountaineer continued, with a friendly 
smile bestowed on Bess, who still lingered: 
“ I seed the new owner las’ evenin’, an’ I spoke 
a good word fur ye. Jack. He ’lowed he’d a 
good ’pinion o’ ye hisself, from sumthin’ he’d 
hearn ’bout ye; so I’s kinder hopin’ ye kin 
git the shop arter all. What ware Jake 
a-hangin’ ’round here fur?” 

“I’ll tell you as we ride along,” the boy an- 
swered. “ I’ll have to go to the house a minute 
before I can start. Will you mind waiting five 
minutes ? ” 

“ No ; nur ten o’ ’em, ef ye needs that long. 
This mule air young, an’ she air spry, an’ we 


118 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

kin jog along fas’ when we starts,” Ned an- 
swered. 

Jack only waited to snatch a mouthful of 
breakfast. He knew Ned must not be late in 
getting to his work. 


CHAPTEE VI. 



S briefly as possible, while they rode 


along, Jack narrated his two interviews 
with Jake Brown. 

Ned listened until the lad ended, and then 
said: ‘‘Jake air wuss than I ’lowed he ware. 
Hit’s true that he seed the young master, an’ 
Mr. Payton ware pleased ter say that he looked 
like he ware a good smith, which he air; but 
Jake did not git the shop.” 

“And yet he said he would turn me out of 
it in less than two hours unless I would be- 
come his partner,” Jack exclaimed. “His au- 
dacity is amazing.” 

“So hit air. Mr. Payton said he’d wait a 
spell afore he decided who he’d give the shop 
to. Jake air ter see him agin this arternoon. 
Thet’s why I ’lowed ter git ye ter the hall this 
mawnin’. Mr. Payton told me ’bout Jake last 
evenin’ when he engaged me to work. He 
axed what kind o’ man he ware. I said nothin’ 
agin him.” 


no 


120 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

That was right/’ said Jack, heartily. 

‘‘But I told him ’bout you, an’ ’bout yore 
father, an’ he ’lowed ye ware young ter run sich 
a big shop alone. Jake may git hit, an’ agin 
he mayn’t. Providence air a-watchin’ an’ I 
air hopin’ he’ll give the shop where hit rightly 
b’longs, an’ that’ll be ter yore father’s son.” 

Jack’s eyes said that he was hoping the same. 
His lips were silent. Ned soon * continued : 
“Why did Jake propose for ye ter be his 
pardner, I wonder, afore the shop ware really 
his’n?” 

Jack laughed. “ Don’t you see ? If he 
could tell Mr. Payton when he sees him this 
afternoon that we were in partnership, he 
would be certain to get the shop. We are the 
only two who are applying for it. Jake is a 
sharp fellow.” 

“ So he air, an’ a bad one. Hit won’t seem 
right fur sich a feller ter hev yore father’s 
place, an’ I don’t bleeve God air a-goin’ ter let 
him git hit. Still he may. ‘ His ways air not 
ez our ways,’ the good book says, an’ Mr. Pay- 
ton ’lowed ez Jake looked every inch a black- 


The Shop at Black's Corne7\ 121 

smith. I could see he liked his build an’ 
kinder doted on his big arms an’ fists.” 

A sudden thought brightened the lad’s face. 

Perhaps if Mr. Payton considers me too 
young to run the shop, and if he gives it to 
Jake, he might be willing to give me work about 
the hall. I must get into something right 
away. I could soon learn to garden under 
you, Ned, and I’m sure you would be patient 
with me until I learned.” 

‘‘’Deed I would, lad. I’ll stan’ by ye. Jack ; 
ye may be sure o’ that. Yore father ware the 
best man I ever knowed, an honest. God-fearin’ 
Christian, an’ his God air a-goin’ ter tek care 
o’ his children. I feels sho’ o’ this, specially 
sence I seen what a nice, kind young gentle- 
man the new master air.” 

As Ned’s mule was carrying double, their 
progress was rather slow. The distance from 
the shop to the hall was not over three miles, 
and Ned hoped he would reach there in time 
to begin his duties at the usual hour. Sud- 
denly, as they were riding through a dense 
woodland, a stone went whizzing close to Jack’s 


122 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

head. Another swiftly followed. This one 
struck his shoulder with such force as to elicit 
a low exclamation of pain. A third came. 
The last was evidently aimed at the mule, and 
hit her upon her flank. She shied violently, 
and started upon a run. She was young, and 
for a few moments Ned had all he could do to 
keep his seat and regain control of the fright- 
ened animal. ‘‘ Hold fast. Jack,” he cried ; 
“ some dastard wants ter murder us, or else 
some bad boys air out, bent on mischief. 
Don’t lose yore grip, lad.” 

No danger of this. Jack was accustomed to 
horses, and he could keep his seat like an In- 
dian brave. 

As they emerged from the forest and neared 
the hall, the mule, under her double burden, 
slackened her pace. Ned Holton said, with a 
glance sent back along the road : I b’leeve 
Jake Brown sent them stones. I’m afeared 
thar’s murder in that man’s heart.” 

‘‘I think you are right,” Jack quietly re- 
sponded. “ I thought I saw him going into the 
woods ahead of us as we turned into the hoi- 


The Shop at Blaches Corner, 123 

low. When he left the shop he came in this 
direction, I remember.” 

Ned rode thoughtfully forward. I’m sorry 
he’s got a grudge agin ye,” he said, at last ; 
“he air a weecked man, an’ I ’low he thinks 
thar’s leetle chance fur him ter git the shop 
now. He knows I stan’ yore friend, an’ he 
reckons I kin influence Mr. Payton ter giv ye 
the stand. I don’t b’leeve he will even go ter 
see Mr. Payton this arternoon. He’ll be fearin’ 
thet ye’ll hev tolt him ’bout his lyin’ ter ye ; 
an’ these stuns he jis’ thro wed will mek him 
skeery ’bout showin’ hisself.” 

Jack was busy with his own thoughts, and 
made no reply. Ned continued : “ Ye’ll hev ter 
be cautious. Jack. An enemy like Jake, wi’ 
murder in his heart, ain’t a pleasant pusson ter 
hev about.” 

The lad laughed. “ There’s no danger. The 
stone did hit pretty hard, and he aimed at my 
head, but no harm is done. Jake’s anger 
won’t last ; and my father’s God, about whom 
you spoke a while ago, will take care of me. 
I’m trusting him, and I’m going to trust him as 


124 The Shop at Blaches Corner, 

I have never done before. I feel jnst as though 
he spoke to me this morning in the shop. It 
was like a real voice, telling me not to be Jake’s 
partner ; and somehow I feel, right now, as if 
he was all about me, watching over me.” 

An’ so he air ; nary doubt o’ that. Hit’s a 
good feelin’ ter have, hain’t hit, lad ? ” 

“Indeed it is. I wonder how any one can 
hate him or doubt his love,” was Jack’s hearty 
response. Then he added, after a moment’s 
pause : “ But I believe I am only just begin- 
ning to really love him myself. I’ve always 
known that he cared for me, for father and 
mother taught us this, but I now seem to fully 
understand that he loves me, I don’t believe I 
shall be afraid again of not being able to pro- 
vide for Alice and Bessie. He will take care of 
that.” 

Ned turned a beaming face sideways towards 
the lad. He could not look directly into his 
eyes, as he desired, but he came as near this as 
their respective positions upon the back of the 
still restive mule would permit. 

“ Now you’re talkin’ sense,” he said, heartily. 


The Shop at Blades Corner, 125 

‘‘ Hit’s when we trusts him that God kin bless 
us. Never forgit that, Jack.” 

‘‘ I never thought much about it before, but 
I now see it must be an insult to him not to 
trust him. His book is full of promises.” 

Aye ! so hit air,” agreed Ned. 

Father used to read them over and over, 
and say he was richer than a king, for every 
promise was for him. I believe I begin to know 
how he felt when he used to be so happy and 
sing so much while he worked.” 

There was a glow in Jack’s face that said 
more than his words. 

They had now reached the hall. I’ll jis’ tie 
my mule an’ then go in with ye ter see the 
master. Hit air a bit late, but he’ll not mind 
me beginnin’ a few minutes behind time for 
onct.” 

‘‘No, Ned; go straight to work. I’m very 
much obliged to you for bringing me over. 
Now let me find Mr. Payton as best I can. 
Probably he is still at breakfast, and I may 
have to wait for him.” 

“ That’s true. Wal, when you hev seed him, 


126 The Shop at Black's Comer, 

come out ter the garden where I’s workin’ an* 
tell me what he says ter ye. But I feel purty 
sho’ now that he’ll give ye the shop. Somehow 
I feels hit in my bones, ez my old granny used 
ter feel the rheumaticks before hit ware a-goin 
ter rain. An’ she ware never mistook. Her 
bones alius telled the truth.” 

Ned lingered a moment to remove the saddle 
from his beast and tether her in such a manner 
as would permit her to graze on the luxuriant 
grass which the late autumn weather had left 
uninjured. Jack also lingered, feeling sure 
that Mr. Payton would not be ready to receive 
a caller at so. early an hour. ‘‘ Perhaps he’s 
not up yet,” he thought, with an amused smile. 
Had he known the prompt business habits of 
the young owner of all these rich possessions 
this thought would not have entered his mind. 


CHAPTEE VII. 



IHE “hair’ was the ancestral home of the 


-L Parkers. It was a large, roomy struc- 
ture, pleasing and picturesque in its quaint 
style of architecture. 

An outside view gave one the impression that 
it must be full of cosy nooks, sunny exposures, 
and charming outlooks. 

Jack surveyed the building with pleased at- 
tention as he advanced toward the massive 
front door. 

“ I may have trouble in being admitted,” he 
thought. “ But I’m going to see Mr. Payton if I 
have to wait here all day, and force an entrance 
at last.” 

A supercilious negro came to the door in an- 
swer to his ring. He looked Jack over, and 
said, after the lad had modestly stated his re- 
quest to see Mr. Payton : “ He’s at his breffus ; 
cayn’t be ’sturbed, nohow.” 

“I’ll wait for him, then,” was Jack’s reply. 


127 


128 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

turning towards an easy rustic chair which 
stood upon the piazza. 

“No use to do dat,” the man quickly re- 
sponded. “Dis day is to be giv’ up to biz’ness. 
Mr. Payton’s lawyer am wid him now, a-takin’ 
breffus. W’en dey linish eatin’, dey is goin’ 
into de study, an’ no one mus’ ’sturb ’em. Dese 
am de yong master’s own orders.” 

“ But I will only detain him a few moments,” 
urged Jack. 

“Dat meks no dif’rence. He won’t see no 
pusson, ’cept he lawyer, ’fo to-morrow. Yo’ 
go ’long, an’ cum back in de mawnin’, ef yo’ 
biz’ness won’t keep no longer.” 

He closed the door. Jack quietly seated 
himself in the rustic chair. 

“ I’ll wait an hour, and then I’ll ring again,” 
he said to himself. 

The cleft in his strongly-moulded chin told 
of resolution and strength of character. The 
curve of his lips, as he spoke these words just 
above his breath, told the same story. 

Very quietly he awaited the expiration of his 
allotted time. His thoughts were busy over 


The Shop at Tlack^ 6 Corner, 129 

many things. He vaguely wondered if the 
young heir resembled his uncle, the Mr. 
Parker who had been so kind to every one 
around him. Then he found his mind recall- 
ing Tom Weaver, and repeating the lad’s de- 
scription of the young stranger whom both had 
felt sure was Mr. Payton. 

‘‘Oh! how glad I am that such a wicked man 
was not the young landlord. I don’t believe I 
should want the shop if such a person as he 
owned it. I should feel afraid that God could 
not bless anything that belonged to him,” he 
murmured. 

Here his mind turned to his father’s death- 
bed, and again he saw the dear face illumined 
with a great joy as the faint voice whispered: 
“All is peace, peace. Christ makes the dark 
valley bright with his presence.” 

“That is the way I want to die,” Jack mut- 
tered, hastily brushing his hand across his 
eyes. Then he arose, walked once or twice 
across the piazza to stretch his limbs, and again 
rang the bell. The same servant who had be- 
fore obeyed the summons again appeared. 

9 


130 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

He frowned when tie saw who the yisitor 
was, and said: ‘‘I done tolt yo’ onct that the 
master cay n’t be ’sturbed. Wat foh yo’ keep 
on troublin’ me?” 

‘‘It is very important that I should see Mr. 
Payton this morning. Please say to him” — 
but the man interrupted him, saying, rudely : 
“’Taint no manner o’ use ter ax foh him to-day. 
He ain’t gwine ter see no one. Dese am his 
own words. So, go ’long wid yo’.” 

He attempted to close the door as he finished 
speaking. Jack stepped boldly in, and quietly 
said: “I am going to see Mr. Payton now. If 
you do not choose to tell me where he is, I 
will find him myself.” 

Just then a bell sounded. The man muttered, 
sulkily : “ He’ll drive yo’ out, sarten. His order 
wuz on no ’count ter ’low him ter be ’sturbed ; 
an’ he got a temper, sho’. Yo’ better stay heah, 
an’ lemme ax him ’bout yo’.” 

“No; I’ll follow you,” was Jack’s reply. His 
blood was up, and he was determined to end 
the matter then and there. 

The man, mumbling some inaudible words, 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 131 

talked down the spacious hall. Jack kept 
close beside him. He threw open a door, and 
said: ^‘Heah, sah, am a” — 

He got no further. Jack had quickly stepped 
inside the door. 

What was the lad’s surprise to see Squire 
Tanner seated by a table in the centre of the 
room. By him sat the young man whose horse 
Jack had shod the day previous. A pile of 
written documents lay on the table before him. 

Both men glanced sharply up at the sound 
of J ack’s steps and the unfinished sentence of 
the servant. The expression of irritation upon 
the younger man’s face changed to a smile as 
he recognized who the intruder was. 

I thought — I meant — I wanted to see Mr. 
Payton,” the lad stammered in confusion at the 
unexpected meeting. 

‘‘ Yes ; I am that individual, at your ser- 
vice,” the young man responded, evidently en- 
joying Jack’s surprise. ‘‘What can I do for you ? ” 

The boy partially recovered himself. Then, 
in a few simple words, he made known his re- 
quest. 


132 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

The shop is yours,” was Mr. Payton’s brief 
reply. Then, seeing the lad was, for the mo- 
ment, too deeply moved to reply, he added : 
“My name is Jack, the same as yours. It 
gives me pleasure to know that this name^ 
which is an honored one in my family, finds no 
unworthy representative in you.” 

The lad was still mute, but the young man 
read a question in the eloquent eyes fixed so 
earnestly upon his own. He smiled. “ I see you 
are wondering why I say this and why I so read- 
ily give you the shop. The explanation is easy. 
The setting of that last nail in Silverheels’ shoe 
decided the matter in your favor. It was but a 
little thing, but small things mean great things 
sometimes. I saw that the nail was wrong, and 
I also saw that you knew it, before you spoke 
a word. Had you allowed it to remain, as you 
were tempted to do, Jake Brown would have 
been given the shop.” 

Jack murmured some words intended for 
thanks. The young man, still regarding him 
with that kind smile which made his face ap- 
pear to the lad as the noblest he had ever seen, 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 133 

continued : I want good and honest work 

done. I will encourage no one who does any 
other kind. I am busy this morning, Jack, so 
I will not detain you any longer. Go back to 
work. So long as you are faithful, count on 
me as being your friend.” 

He extended his hand to Jack while speak- 
ing the last words. As the lad felt the warm 
pressure of the strong, firm hand, a great wave 
of boyish love and admiration went out from 
his heart towards this young man, whose sud- 
den possession of great wealth did not cause 
him to forget to be kind and courteous to this 
humble young blacksmith. As he left the room 
the Squire called after him : Be as good and 
honest a man as your father was, Jact, and you 
will never lack friends.” 

The lad turned a beaming face upon the 
jovial Squire as he answered : ‘‘ I’ll try to be 
that, sir, with God’s help.” 

He found his way to the garden, and told 
Ned, in few words, of his good fortune. The 
simple-hearted mountaineer looked the embodi- 
ment of joy as he listened. ‘‘ Wi’ the young 


134 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

master and Squire Tanner fur yore friends, 
lad, yore future air fixed,” he said, in an exult- 
ant tone. ‘‘Ye’ll mek enough ter give the gals 
ez good an eddication ez they kin want, be- 
sides supportin’ them an’ yo’self comfortable. 
This air a good day to me, Jack. I feels jis’ 
like shoutin’ hallelujah.” 

With a happy laugh the boy turned to go. 

‘‘Ye better stay ’till night, an’ ride home 
’long wi’ me. Jake Brown may be a-hangin’ 
’round ter hurt ye,” Ned said, anxiously. 

But Jack only laughed at the good man’s 
fears and trudged away. 

“ Just to think,” he murmured, glancing back 
towards the stately pile of buildings, “ if I had 
allowed that bad nail to remain in the mare’s 
shoe I should have lost the shop. What is it 
father used to quote so often ? Yes, I remem- 
ber : ‘ Whosoever is faithful over a few things 
will also be faithful over much.’ I’m going to 
live just as he did. It pays.” 


CHAPTEE VIII. 


A S blith e as a bird was J ack as he wended 
his way homeward. Although he had 
laughed at Ned Holton’s fears that Jake might 
still be lingering in the forest, waiting to molest 
the lad on his way home, he still kept a sharp 
lookout as he went along. As he neared the 
hollow from whence the stones had been hurled 
but a few hours previous, his alert eyes kept 
close watch upon the roadside and the forest. 
But no one was visible, and no attempt was 
made to molest him. “ Jake was in a rage this 
morning because J would not fall into his trap,” 
he thought ; but it won’t last. Probably he’s 
heartily ashamed of himself long before this, 
and will hate ever to look into my face again. 
I’m sorry for him. He looks like a great ani- 
mal without any soul. Whatever he had in that 
line he must have crushed out long ago, to 
judge from his present appearance.” With 
these reflections he dismissed the barly black- 
smith from his mind and went to whistling. 


136 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

His heart felt so light that his joy must have 
vent in some way, and whistling was the natu- 
ral escape-valve for Jack, as it is with most 
boys when the spirits become exuberant. 

Perhaps the lad’s idea that Jake’s rage had 
spent itself might have changed had he looked 
behind him just before he reached home. An 
evil face peered out from behind a clump of 
low-growing evergreens, and a burly fist was 
shaken after the boy’s retreating figure, while a 
low voice hissed: ‘‘Yer mighty contented jis’ 
now, youngster. Yer whistlin’ tells the story. 
I ’lowed ez much. The shop air yourn, wi’out, 
er doubt, an’ yer feelin’ mighty good ’bout hit ; 
but jis’ wait a bit, an’ see how ye feel when I’s 
done wi’ ye.” 

Bess and Alice gave the lad a warm greeting 
when he reached the cottage. Great was Bes- 
sie’s delight to find that the shop was really 
given to Jack. She had always supposed that 
this would be the case, yet she had dimly felt 
that there was a possibility that it might be 
otherwise disposed of. To add to her joy, her 
brother laid various small packages upon the 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 137 

kitchen table. An examination proved that 
these contained rice, sugar, raisins, and various 
other articles for which the young housekeeper 
had long been asking. Jack had gone some 
half a mile out of his way to purchase them, 
having visited a small grocery store not far 
from the hall, situated upon another road from 
the one on which they lived, 

‘‘ Now you shall have a nice pudding for din- 
ner, Jack, and Alice shall have some of her 
favorite cookies. How glad I am that Mr. 
Payton has come, and that all the tiresome 
waiting is over,” the girl cried, with bright 
eyes, as she hastened around to prepare her 
tempting meal. 

It was a never-to-be-forgotten dinner which 
the three orphans enjoyed that day. All the 
gloom was gone from Jack’s brow; his voice 
and smile were so cheery that Alice said, joy- 
fully : “ Papa’s turnin’ home to-day, isn’t he, 

bubbah ? Is you seen him turnin’ makes you 

» 

laugh so ? ” 

A quick hush fell over her sister and brother. 
They had never explained to her the meaning 


138 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

of their father’s absence. A kind neighbor had 
taken her to her home during the last few days 
of Mr. Asbury’s illness, and the child had seen 
and known nothing of the ghastliness of death. 
Both Jack and Bess had felt it impossible to 
tell her the truth when she was brought back 
to them. The former now said, very gravely 
and softly : “ Papa has gone to live with Jesus 
and the angels, Alice, in a beautiful country 
called heaven. He will never come back to us 
here, but we shall go to live with him after 
a while if we try to do right and if we love God.” 

“ Me loves Dod. Me dood baby. Tan’t I 
doe see papa to-day ? ” the child said, eagerly. 

Very tenderly Jack tried to explain the truth 
to the little one, and Bess, with tears rolling 
down her cheeks, added a few words from time 
to time. 

“ You know father always read in the Bible 
and prayed with us, Alice, at night before he 
went away,” Jack said, at last. “ I think he 
would be glad for us still to do this. I’m going 
to begin to-night, and read just where he left 
off. His mark is in the Bible, just as he left it. 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 139 

Then we’ll all kneel down and say the Lord’s 
prayer together. I believe this will please 
father, and I think it will please God, too. 
How will you like this ? ” 

The idea pleased her, and Bess said : ‘‘ And 
we can all repeat the twenty-third Psalm to- 
gether. You know mamma taught us this 
Psalm. I shall almost feel as if she and papa 
were with us if we can have prayers again. 
Won’t it be nice, Alice ? ” 

Es. An’ me tan say, ‘ Now I lay me ’ out 
here wiv bubbah, ’sted o’ sayin’ it in ze bed- 
woom,” the baby said, contentedly. 

It seemed a very desolate way for these three 
children thus to live by themselves, with no 
housekeeper but Bess ; but they really got 
along very comfortably. Bess was an active, 
her mother had carefully trained 
her in all the mysteries of cooking and house- 
keeping, until she was as expert in her sphere as 
Jack was in his. The dear mother had only 
slept beneath the willows one short year when 
Mr. Asbury joined her. A kind neighbor baked 
bread for the little household twice a week, in 


140 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

spite of Bessie’s protest that she herself was 
able to do this. The more troublesome pieces 
of the weekly washing were also attended to by 
this good woman, and Bess repaid her by often 
going over with Alice and amusing the chil- 
dren, so that the busy mother could be free to 
attend to her numerous duties. 

That evening, just before the lamps were 
lighted. Jack went out to the shop. He had 
not opened it since his return from the hall, 
but had spent the afternoon at the cottage with 
his sisters. 

‘‘I’ll begin work bright and early to-morrow 
morning,” he said, as he walked briskly along 
in the gloaming. “ And I must see Dan, and tell 
him to be on hand regularly after this. I must 
prove to Mr. Payton that his confidence in me is 
not misplaced, and no doubt there will now be 
plenty of work to keep Dan and me both busy.” 

When he reached the shop and unlocked the 
door, he went to the shelf where his father’s 
Bible lay, and took it down. 

“This one is all marked with father’s pencil, 
and I like it best,” he thought, carefully tack- 


The Shop at Black's Oor7ie7\ 141 

ing it under bis arm. ‘‘ I can fancy I see father 
poring over it whenever I look at it. That 
passage about God being a Father to the father- 
less is carefully marked in this, and I want to 
find it. Father read it to me, and marked it, 
the very last day he was able to come out to 
the shop and work.” 

As he was stepping out of the door, a dark 
form came around the end of the shop. At 
sight of Jack the figure turned hastily away, 
and disappeared in the shadows. 

Jack’s heart beat more quickly than usual. 

‘‘That was Jake Brown. What is he hang- 
ing around here for, I wonder? And what 
made him hurry off as if he was afraid of being 
seen ? ” 

There was no one to answer these questions 
which came into the lad’s heart. He carefully 
locked the door, looked sharply in the direc- 
tion in which the figure had disappeared, and 
then thoughtfully returned to the cottage. He 
felt uneasy, but he knew he must not betray 
this feeling to Bess. 

It would have been a touching sight, had 


14:2 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

there been any one to observe them, to see the 
three orphan children gather together that 
night in family worship. 

Jack read aloud from the holy word, and 
then they reverently knelt By their chairs to 
invoke, as best they knew how, God’s love and 
care over them. 

The ‘‘ Shepherd Psalm ” was then duly recited, 
and this was followed by Alice repeating, in 
soft tones, her usual little prayer before she 
kissed Jack good-night. 

Very peacefully the two girls fell asleep that 
night. An overshadowing presence seemed to 
Bessie to hover about them. She whispered 
to her little sister, as she took her into her 
arms : ‘‘ God is surely with us to-night, Alice. 
I love him so much. Don’t you love him, pet ?” 

‘‘Es me do,” the little one drowsily mur- 
mured, and the next moment she was fast 
asleep. Bess soon followed her into the land 
of dreams, and silence brooded over the little 
household. 

Jack, alone, was restless. He could not for- 
get the huge, slouching form which he had 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 143 

seen about the shop, nor could he dismiss the 
feeling of uneasiness which the remembrance 
brought him. 

He recalled Ned Holton’s words, and the 
fear which the good man had expressed that 
Jake might try to wreak some injury upon the 
lad. 

Although, at the time, Jack had laughed at 
his words, he now remembered them with some- 
thing akin to fear. And yet, what could the 
brawny fellow do? Evidently he had not in- 
tended any personal violence, else he would 
have perpetrated it out at the shop that even- 
ing. Instead, he had hurried from view, as if 
ashamed of being seen. 

For a time this thought comforted the boy^. 
and he fell into a light sleep. 


CHAPTEE IX. 


HE night was dark. Not a star was visi- 



ble. Heavy clouds veiled the sky, and 
the wind sighed and moaned, as it sometimes 
will in autumn, seeming to complain that the 
summer was gone. 

Jack soon wakened, and again tossed rest- 
lessly upon his pillow. Once he arose and 
peered out through the gloom towards the 
shop. All was silence and darkness. 

Pshaw! I wonder why I can’t forget Jake 
Brown ? ” he muttered, in disgust at his inability 
to sleep. ‘‘The fellow was on his way home, 
no doubt, from his interview with Mr. Payton. 
The reason he slouched off so quickly when he 
found I was in the shop was because he felt 
ashamed to face me after his wicked words this 
morning, and his silly rage in throwing the 
stones.” 

Somewhat reassured by these reflections he 
turned his face away from the window and 
again fell into an uneasy slumber. But frightful 


144 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 145 

dreams invaded his sleep. A nameless horror 
seemed to have possession of him. 

He again arose and looked out of the window. 
Nothing but dense darkness greeted him. 

‘‘I wonder what ails me?” he said, half 
aloud, and giving himself a vigorous pinch to 
see that he was fully awake. I don’t think I 
ever had such a feeling of dread before. Per- 
haps Jake was right after all, and I am a girl. 
I seem to be as nervous as one to-night.” 

He laughed softly at the idea of there being 
anything feminine in his make-up. He was 
such a full-blooded, typical boy, that the thought 
was amusing. 

‘‘I’ll get a drink of water from the pitcher, 
and then I loill go to sleep,” he thought. He 
helped himself to the water. 

He stumbled over a chair in the darkness, 
and knocked his nose against a corner of the 
mantle-shelf, as he fumbled his way back to 
the bed. 

Much disgusted, he settled himself upon his 
pillow, and closed his eyes ; but vain were his 
attempts to sleep. 

10 


146 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

At last, in sheer desperation, he again arose. 
This time he sank upon his knees by the bed- 
side, and whispered : ‘‘ Dear Father in heaven,^ 
if anybody is wanting to harm us, please watch 
over us and keep us in safety. You have pro- 
mised to be a Father to the fatherless, and we 
are trusting you to take care of us. We have 
no one else to trust. Please hear me, for 
Jesus’ sake. Amen.” 

When he arose he felt strangely comforted. 
He softly struck a match to see what time it 
was. He always slept with his father’s old 
silver watch under his pillow. 

“Just twelve o’clock, and I came to bed at 
nine. Well, I’m sleepy now, sure enough^ and 
I feel as if I could sleep like a top until morn- 
ing.” 

He crept into bed and was soon sound 
asleep. 

The dark figure of a man at this moment was 
standing immediately under the window. Both 
hands were full of shavings. He muttered an 
oath as he saw the flash of the light from Jack’s 
match. 


The Shop at Black's Corner. 147 

“Wonder ef he air a-suspicionin’ anything?” 
he breathed. “Hit pears like hit. Anyhow, 
some o’ ’em air awake. Wal, hit do pear ruther 
tough ter burn the house with the leetle gals in 
hit. The boy mought burn, fast enough, fur 
all o’ me carin’, but the baby an’ the gal air 
likely critters. Don’t b’leeve, arter all, I kin 
fire the cottage. Thet flash o’ light sort o’ set 
me tremblin’, an’ set me studdyin’ ’bout the 
leetle gals.” 

He swiftly gave an upward glance towards 
the window from whence the light had ap- 
peared, and then softly turned away, muttering 
just above his breath : “ But the shop shell go, 
an’ thet will spile all his fine plannin’. He 
cayn’t shoe bosses wi’out a shop, an’ wi’ nary 
thing to shoe ’em with. Ho ! ho ! my fine dudee, 
yer bread’s all dough, ez ye’ll find out afore 
long.” 

Jack may have slept soundly for some two 
hours. He never knew what aroused him. He 
opened his eyes with a violent start. 

The room was in a glow of light. 

He rubbed his eyes to be certain that he was 


148 The Shop at Black's Corner. 

awake. A blaze of red light streamed in through 
his window, revealing to his startled gaze the 
most minute object in the room. 

He sprang up with- a low cry, and rushed to 
the window. A solid sheet of flame was rising 
from the shop. 

‘^Oh! some one has fired the shop! Jake 
Brown must have done it. And it’s too late to 
save a thing,” he moaned. ‘‘We are ruined I 
we are ruined!” 

He hastily threw on some clothing and ran 
swiftly down stairs. He made no noise, and as 
he unlocked the door and sped out he left it 
unlatched. “No use to frighten Alice and 
Bess,” he thought ; “ they might as well sleep 
as long as they can. It will be hard enough 
for them to bear the truth when morning comes. 
No one can help now ; it’s too late. It must 
have been burning an hour. Oh ! why didn’t I 
lie awake and watch ! I felt that something 
dreadful was going to happen.” 

It was true that nothing could be saved. 
Even as he rushed out, the roof of the shop fell 
in, and the flames leaped up towards the black 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 149 

sky as if in fiendish glee over the ruin they had 
wrought. 

‘^Yes; this is Jake Brown’s work,” Jack 
muttered. ‘‘No doubt he’s far enough away, 
though, by this time. Oh ! what will become 
of us ; what will become of us ? ” he moaned, 
going as close to the leaping flames as he dared, 
and unconsciously wringing his hands, as his 
mind fully grasped what the destruction of the 
shop really meant to him. 

A huge form, which was crouched down be- 
hind a clump of dense evergreens, where the 
same figure had been concealed the previous 
morning as Jack returned from the hall, 
chuckled as he watched the lad’s evident dis- 
tress. “Oh, ho!” he whispered, “so yer 
whistlin’ air changed ter sumthin’ else, be hit? 
Wal, thet’s the purtiest sight I ha’ seen fur 
many a day an’ night. I meant ter a-fired the 
house, but this air enough. Guess he’d be 
mighty glad ter be my pardner jis’ about now 
ef he hed a chance. Good-bye, youngster ; my 
grudge agin ye air about gone out wi’ the 
burnin’ o’ the shop. I ha’ settled ye fur 


150 The Shop at Black's Comer, 

a while, an’ thet’s comfortin’.” He peered 
through the low-growing bushes, and again 
chuckled as he saw the despairing face and at- 
titude of the stricken boy. Then he added, 
turning away : Now I air off fur Texas. Don’t 
keer to stay ’bout here arter ter-night. Hit’s 
mighty convenient ter git off wi’ the hoss- 
traders ’fore daylight. Somebody m ought be 
a-axin ’bout my health, an’ I jis’ ez leeve ez not 
be out’n the way.” He started to creep cau- 
tiously through the bushes away from the 
burning building, when a thought suddenly 
struck him. Again he chuckled and whispered : 
‘‘The werry thing; I’ll do hit. No harm’ll 
come, an’ hit’ll mek him dance. Ho, ho ! ” 
So loud was his sinister merriment that, had 
there been a listening ear, and had it not been 
for the roaring and crackling of the fire, it must 
have been heard. He cautiously made a wide 
circuit about the fiaming shop and came out 
close to the cottage. He paused a moment 
and peered towards the fire. Jack still stood 
where he had first stopped when he reached 
the scene of ruin, lost in painful thought. The 


The Shop at Black[s Corner, 151 

figure stole noiselessly towards the house and 
disappeared within its shadow. Ten minutes 
later the same figure emerged and struck into 
the forest on the opposite side from where the 
shop had stood. He bore a dark bundle in his 
arms, which he held with much care, and his 
steps were cautiously chosen. After he had 
gotten some distance from the cottage and the 
burning building he swung into a rapid walk, 
which soon carried him far from the scene of 
his night’s exploit. This was the last which 
that vicinity ever saw of Jake Brown. 

Jack stood and watched the flames gradually 
die away. Not a soul besides himself and that 
other unseen watcher had noticed the fire. 
The shop and cottage stood near the edge of 
the forest, and no other buildings were in sight. 
Jack had the vigil all alone after that unsus- 
pected and sinister figure had stolen away into 
the gloom and silence of the forest. It was a 
vigil he never forgot. ‘‘ I’m glad I got father’s 
Bible from the shop,” he thought ; I can see 
him now bending over it, with his apron on and 
his sleeves rolled up, reading a passage now 


152 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

and then as he worked. And to think the shop 
he loved so well, and the tools which he used 
for so many years, are gone.” 

It was not strange that tears rolled down the 
lad’s cheeks. He hastily brushed them aside, 
as though in shame, and said : ‘‘We have no 
one to look to but God. He has promised to 
care for us, but I hardly see how he is going to 
do it, now that the shop is gone. But I sup- 
pose he will somehow, if we can trust him.” 

The early gray of the morning soon began to 
break the gloom of night. Anon the first faint 
fiush of rose color tinted the east. Usually 
Jack was alert to catch the mystic charm of the 
dawn, but now his thoughts were too sad to 
care for this. He vaguely wondered who would 
be the first among the neighbors to see the 
ruin. He knew that just at dawn a lad always 
passed with a cart of fruit and vegetables going 
to the neighboring town to market. Probably 
he would be the first to discover the loss. “I 
must soon go in,” he thought ; “ Bess will be 
up, and I must break the news to her carefully. 
Alice must not be frightened.” 


CHAPTEK X. 


HE news that the blacksmith shop at 



_JL Black’s Corner was burned ran through 
the neighborhood like an electric shock. 

A passing lad, soon after daybreak, dis- 
covered it. He made it his business to spread 
the news. When it was told to Ned Holton, 
he shook his head gravely, and said to himself : 
^‘That air Jake Brown’s doin’s. I knowed he 
ware bad, but I didn’t ’low he ware ez low down 
an’ sneakin’ ez that.” 

He hastened to the cottage before he went 
to his work at the hall. 

He never forgot the scene which met his eyes 
after he drew rein in front of the house where 
the orphans lived. He did not pause as. he 
passed the smoking pile of ruins where the 
shop had so recently stood. He only groaned 
aloud, and said, as he rode past to the cottage : 
“Jack air sorely tried; but I air plumb thank- 
ful that no harm ware done ter him er the leetle 
gals. Jake mought a-burned the cottage. He 


153 


154 The Shop at Blank's Corner. 

air weecked enough ter do anythin’ ’cordin’ ter 
my notions.” 

The sound of weeping met his ears as he 
ascended the piazza steps. 

“Pore Bessie, she air takin’ on dretful; an’ 
no wonder,” he thought. 

But he was not prepared for the spectacle of 
grief which met him as he opened the door and 
entered. His knock had not been heeded. 

Poor Bessie, half clad and dishevelled, stood 
in the centre of the room wringing her hands 
and violently sobbing. No fire was in the 
grate, and no thought of preparing the morning 
meal seemed to have entered the poor girl’s 
mind. Jack was by her side endeavoring to 
calm her. As Ned paused upon the thresh- 
hold he heard him say: “Hush, Bess, and try 
to control yourself. Try and think whether 
she has ever walked in her sleep. It seems to 
me that I remember mother telling us about 
her having done this once or twice when she 
first learned to walk.” 

But Bess made no reply. Jack continued : 
“ It is possible she got up in her sleep and went 


The Shop at Blaches Corner. 155 

out-of-doors, and we may find her fast asleep 
somewhere near the house.” 

A great fear came into Ned Holton’s heart.. 
He strode forward and said, as he laid his 
hand on Jack’s shoulder: ‘^Air the baby 
gone?” 

The startled boy had not been aware of a 
third person’s presence in the room until he 
felt the heavy grasp upon his arm. With a 
stified cry he turned towards Ned and said: 
“Yes; the shop is burned and Alice is gone. 
We have searched the whole house, but she is 
not here.” 

‘‘Come, thar’s jis’ one chance, she may hev 
runned out airly, ’fore Bess woke up. She 
may be a-playin’ in the garden or the cow-shed. 
We mus’ search fust, an’ talk arterwards,” was 
the mountaineer’s reply. 

The search proved unavailing. Neighbors 
now came pouring in, the news of the fire hav- 
ing been widely spread by those who love to be 
the first to carry tidings of disaster into quiet 
households. All hearts were interested in the 
orphans, and many now presented themselves. 


156 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

who, had the loss fallen upon others, would 
not have noticed it. 

Bess was as a person bereft of reason. She 
moaned out again and again: ‘‘She went to 
sleep, as she always does, lying in my arms. 
When I woke up this morning she was gone. 
I thought at first she was in Jack’s room; but 
she is lost. Some one has stolen her, or she is 
burned up in the shop.” 

Many kind hearts tried to pacify the frantic 
girl, but little solace could be given. The dis- 
appearance of the beautiful child was a palpa- 
ble fact, and there seemed no possible expla- 
nation that was less appalling than those Bessie 
had advanced. 

A search for Jake Brown disclosed the fact 
that he was not to be found. No one knew 
where he was hidden. Even his best friends 
claimed to be ignorant of his whereabouts. 
Parties of men scoured the forest and highways 
in all directions. Unfortunately, both Mr. 
Payton and Squire Tanner had taken an early 
train for the city, so that their advice and 
counsel could not be obtained until night. 


The Shop at Black^s Corner, 157 

After the first horror of finding that Alice 
was gone was over, Jack had become calm and 
collected. He it was who organized party after 
party to search the woods and valleys for the 
missing child. He, taking only Ned Holton 
with him, went in the direction of the river. 
‘‘ Some Texas horse-traders left the valley this 
morning before daybreak,” he said, as they 
strode forward, keeping a sharp lookout in 
every direction for any possible clue of the lost 
one. Jim Green told me about them. They 
went in a boat down the river. I have an idea 
that Jake went with them. He told me yester- 
day that he wanted to go to Texas to engage in 
horse-trading.” 

Ned’s interest in this disclosure was deep, 
although he made no response. Jack con- 
tinued : ‘‘ My idea is for us to go to the point 
where the traders started down the river. It’s 
by Noel’s ferry, Jim said, the loneliest place I 
know. Only an old woman and a half-witted 
boy live there. The ferry is no longer kept up. 
They are said to be hard cases, but if Jake 
went with the traders, as I believe he did, we 


158 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

may find out from the woman whether he car- 
ried a child with him or not. He’s mean and 
wicked, but I don’t believe he’s bad enough to 
hurt an innocent baby like Alice.” 

Jack’s voice was husky. The possibility of 
harm having come to his little sister broke 
down his firmness. 

“ P’raps you air right,” Ned said ; I air 
afearin’ — but he did not finish his sentence. 
His fears were such terrible ones that he felt 
he must not tell them to Jack. 

Their inquiries at the ferry at first seemed 
fruitless. Not a word of information could be 
elicited from the hard-featured woman who oc- 
cupied the shanty on the river bank. At last 
she said, peering sharply into Jack’s face: 
‘‘What air them thar hoss-traders ter ye? 
What fur ye want ter know all about ’em ? ” 

The lad’s heart was full. In a few hurried 
words he told of the fire and of the loss 
of his sister ; also, why his suspicions fell upon 
Jake, and why he believed he had joined the 
traders. 

“ Ef I kin help ye find the chile, what’ll ye 


The Shop at Black's Corner. 159 

giv me ? ” the old crone said, with an avaricious 
gleam in her eyes. 

Ned drew out a silver dollar, and Jack added 
another. ‘‘ This is the last dollar I have in the 
world,” the latter said ; ‘‘I will gladly give it to 
you if you can help us find Alice.” 

‘‘ Giv ’em ter me,” the old creature said. I 
kin show ye the baby in one minnit ef I’s a 
mind ter.” 

She eagerly clutched the money, and then 
opened the door leading into her miserable 
shanty. ^‘Look! Air thet ther chile?” she 
said, pointing to a dirty bed in the corner of 
the room. 

With a wildly-beating heart Jack went for- 
ward. Yes, there, upon the torn quilt, lay 
Alice. She was fast asleep. Tears were upon 
her lashes, and she sobbed in her slumber as 
they gazed upon her. Ned sternly faced the 
woman. ‘‘ Ye shell suffer fur helpin’ that 
scoundrel steal the chile. How dared ye do 
hit?” 

‘‘I didn’t know the man,” the old creature 
said, without flinching. “ He tolt me the 


160 The Shop at Blade's Corner, 

baby’s mammy bad jis’ died, an’ be paid me a 
silver dollar ter keep ber tell be cumed back 
fur ber. He ’lowed be ware cornin’ in less 
than a week ter git ber.” 

Jack bad been vainly trying to awaken tbe 
child, but be could not succeed. Wbat bave 
you given ber to cause ber to sleep so sound- 
ly ? ” be said, in a frightened tone. 

“ Nutbin’ ter harm her ; jis’ a few draps o’ 
par’goric. She cried so bard fur ber mammy, 
Bessie she called her, tbet I ’lowed she’d be 
sick, so 1 gin her a leetle drap o’ the soothin’ 
stuff. I givs hit ter Joe mos’ every night when 
he can’t sleep.” She pointed, as she spoke, to 
a poor imbecile lad who sat mumbling to him- 
self, crouched over the fire. 

Ned wrapped the sleeping child with the 
blanket in which Jake Brown had muffled 
her the previous night when he stole her 
from the cottage, and he and Jack started 
homeward. 

The woman air bad, but I dunno ez she 
knowed the child ware stole ; but she ’peared 
pow’ful glad, ter my mind, when we took her 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 161 

away,” Ned remarked, as they left the shanty 
and the river behind them. 

“ I doubt if she knew that Alice was stolen,” 
Jack agreed; ‘‘but I do think she suspected 
that something was wrong. But the dollar Jake 
paid her quieted her conscience, if she has any.” 

The fresh air soon aroused the child from her 
heavy slumber. Her joy in seeing Jack walk- 
ing along by her side, and the kind face of Ned 
Holton bending over her, can be imagined. 
She seemed to be perfectly well, and the few 
past hours, whatever they had hold for her of 
pain and terror, were forgotten in her present 
happiness. 

“ God is good to give her back to us so soon, 
safe and unharmed, out of the power of Jake 
Brown and that old woman,” Jack said, with 
deep emotion, as they neared the cottage. 

“ Yes ; he air alius good ter sich ez trust an’ 
obey him,” was Ned’s hearty response ; “ I 
ware pow’ful skeered fur a spell, but God ware 
better then my fears ’lowed. Sometimes he 
lets us fall inter sich trouble ez mos’ breaks the 
heart jis’ ter see ef we will still trust him. An’ 


11 


162 2'lie Shop at Black' s Corner , 

then he sort o’ wants ns ter be weaned awaj 
from this world thet we may fix our hearts on 
’tother one.” The last words were spoken very 
low and in a voice that was slightly tremulous.. 
The good man was glancing back over some 
things in his own life when crushing sorrow 
had first turned his eyes Godward and heaven- 
ward. 

We need not pause to tell of Bessie’s joy 
when the little one was laid in her arms, nor of 
the hearty sympathy and warm congratulations, 
showered upon the little household by their 
kind-hearted neighbors. Busy hands had been 
at work in the various homes, and at nightfall 
a goodly store of wholesome and appetizing 
food was placed in Bessie’s neat pantry. 

When, at last, the brother and sisters were 
left alone, nothing but thankful joy filled their 
hearts. The loss of the shop was, for the time, 
forgotten in the happiness of having Alice 
safely with them once more. It was with deep 
gratitude that they knelt around the little fam- 
ily altar and thanked God for his goodness in 
bringing Alice again to their arms. 


CHAPTEE XL 



HEN Ned Holton next saw Jack he said : 


» T ‘‘Jake Brown orter be made ter suffer 
fur his weeckedness. But thar haint no proof 
agin him, even ef we could ketch up wi’ him.” 

“He’ll suffer enough,” was the lad’s reply. 
“ I wouldn’t have his conscience to carry around 
with me for a million of dollars.” 

“I’s a-fearin’ his conscience air dead,” Ned 
responded. “Ye know God does let the wil- 
fully weecked ‘ follow ther own devices,’ ez the 
good book says, an’ the end o’ all sich ez God 
once lets go his^ holt on air orful ter studdy 
about. Jake air one o’ them ez God hez giv 
up, ter my thinkin’. P’raps I’s wrong. I hopes 
I air, an’ thet Jake’s conscience will yit thrash 
him an’ bring him ter repentance.” 

If such was the case, Ned never heard of it. 
It was soon learned, beyond a doubt, that the 
burly blacksmith had gone to Texas in com- 
pany with the horse-traders, as Jack had sur- 
mised. 


168 


164 The Shop at Blaches Corner, 

No one regretted his departure, unless it 
were a few of his boon companions who some- 
times longed for his vile jokes and unclean 
witticisms. 

‘‘Whatever ye air ter do is mor’n I kin tell,” 
Ned said, looking Jack thoughtfully over from 
head to foot. “Hit stan’s ter reason ye cayn’t 
shoe bosses wi’ nary shop ter shoe ’em in, an’ 
nuthin’ to work with.” 

“I’ve thought perhaps Mr. Payton will let 
me work with you at the hall until I can make 
some arrangements for another shop,” the lad 
quickly responded. “I’ve got to find some- 
thing to do at once, for I gave that old woman 
at the ferry the last dollar I had left of the sum 
father had by him when he died.” 

Jack’s voice was a trifle husky as he thus 
spoke. Ned cleared his throat with an ener- 
getic and thrice-repeated cough before he trusted 
himself to reply. 

“Don’t ye mind ’bout that, lad. I’ve plenty 
o’ meal an’ sweet pertaters an’ bacon on hand, 
an’ ye an’ the childen shan’t suffer whilst I’ve a 
mouthful by me. The missus is of the same 


The Shop at Blades Corner, 165 

mind, fur we ware a-talkin’ ye over when 
hit ’peared ez if Jake mought git the shop away 
from ye. So don’t ye fret.” 

Jack answered, with much emotion : I thank 
you, Ned, from my heart ; but we can make out 
all right if Mr. Payton will give me work with 
you for a while at the hall ; and I think he will. 
He seems to be very kind, and he was pleased 
to say that he felt an interest in me, because I 
managed to shoe his beautiful horse. Silver- 
heels, to his and to her satisfaction. She was 
rather troublesome, and he liked the way I got 
along with her.” 

Jack’s voice was as cheery as ever as he 
finished speaking. Ned heartily responded : 
‘‘Aye ; he spoke ’bout the shoein’ o’ her ter me. 
’Lowed ye ware the best han’ ’bout handlin’ 
bosses he ever seen. Wal, I must be off, I 
lost the hull day yesterday, an’ I must be on 
time this mawnin’. I’ll see what Mr. Payton 
says ’bout givin’ ye work at the hall, an’ I’ll 
come by ter-night an’ let ye know.” 

Ned had a long conference with the young 
master that day, who expressed the liveliest in- 


166 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

kerest in Jack’s misfortunes. The loss of the 
shop did not seem to trouble him. 

‘‘It was a tumble-down old place anyway,” 
he said, lightly. “I almost feel like thanking 
the villain who fired it, if I could find him.” 

The mountaineer looked reproachfully into 
the young man’s face as he responded: “But 
hit ware all that Jack hed ter work in. Now 
he air lift wi’ nuthin’ between him an’ starva- 
tion, onless the neighbors helps him ter some- 
thin’. He air hopin’ ter git work at the hall, 
a-helpin’ me in the garden. I promised ter ax 
ye ’bout hit.” 

“Does he know anything about gardening?” 
questioned Mr. Payton. 

“I’m bound ter ’low thet he don’t. All he 
knows is ’bout bosses ; but he kin larn.” 

“No, I don’t care to have you spend your 
time in teaching him something he doesn’t care 
anything about. He would not follow garden- 
ing any longer than he was obliged to. His 
heart is set on his trade, and nothing else will 
satisfy him.” 

This was all that Ned could get him to say. 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 167 

With a heavy heart he recounted his lack of 
success to Jack, as he passed by the cottage on 
his way home. 

The lad received the news in silence. His 
face showed perplexity, but not discourage- 
ment. 

Three months later Mr. Payton and his law- 
yer, Squire Tanner, were leisurely riding past 
Black’s Corner. 

‘‘It’s a different looking place than it was 
the first time you saw it, Payton, isn’t it?” the 
Squire said, looking towards the well-built, 
substantial appearing shop which now occu- 
pied the spot left vacant by the fire. 

“ Yes ; I’ve always felt profoundly grateful to 
the fellow who set the old rattle-trap on fire,” 
the young man responded. “ He meant mis- 
chief, but he was only doing Jack a kindness. 
That boy is the finest fellow I know. Since he 
got into the new shop, with all the improve- 
ments which I put in, he is as happy as a king. 
I envy him sometimes when I see him at work 
and hear his merry whistle. Hark ! he’s whistl- 
ing now.” 


168 The Shop at Black's Corner, 

Sure enough, as they listened, a clear, sweet 
whistle was borne to their ears. Soon they 
came in view of the open shop door. 

Jack stood by the fire holding something in 
the red blaze. His assistant, Dan, was placing 
a piece of iron upon the anvil. A number of 
conveyances of various kinds stood in front of 
the shop. Some of them showed a broken 
spring, others had a wheel off, each mutely tes- 
tifying to the fact that the young blacksmith 
was not lacking work. 

‘‘When Jack found that I was going to build 
him a new shop,” Mr. Payton continued, “ he 
broke right down. I had kept him in suspense 
for a while. This was hard on him, perhaps, 
but I wanted to see what he would do. That 
boy has great strength of character. After he 
found I would not give him work at the hall, he 
hired out to break stone down on the turnpike 
among a lot of the roughest men in the valley.” 

“ Plucky fellow,” laughed the Squire ; “ I 
always liked Jack. He may yet be seen occu- 
pying the White House at Washington. There’s 
no telling where such boys as he will stop.” 


The Shop at Black's Corner, 169 

‘‘ You’re right,” assented his companion ; 
‘‘ he’ll not be a blacksmith always. But while 
he is one he will do first-class work. He has 
pluck, principle and perseverance. I’m going 
fco stand his friend, and when he is ready to 
step up higher I expect to lend him a hand. I 
consider it a privilege to help a fellow like 
Jack.” 

From this conversation it will be seen that 
Jake Brown’s attempt to injure Jack Asbury 
had resulted in placing the lad in a better po- 
sition than ever. Thus it ever is with those 
who fully trust God, verifying the truth of his 
word : '' All things avork together for good 
to those who love the Lord, to those who are 
the CALLED ACCORDING to HIS PURPOSE.” 

All are called ‘‘according to his purpose” 
who respond to his love, give their hearts to 
him, and strive to walk as he commands. To 
all such these words come as a song and shout 
of triumph and victory over all seeming ills and 
discouraging circumstances. 

Jack is fond of saying to Bessie as they dis- 
cuss the past and the present : “ I’m so glad I 


170 The Shop at Blaches Corner, 

never lost heart, Bess, and never forgot to trust 
in father’s God. It’s true what the Bible says : 
‘ Blessed are all they whose trust is in the 
Lord.’ I hope father knows about us, and how 
happy we are.” 

‘‘ Of course he does,” the girl makes answer 
with shining eyes. ‘‘ Don’t you suppose that 
God tells him about us ? Father couldn’t be 
happy unless he knew the Lord was answering 
his prayers. He died telling us that God 
would be a Father to us, and he is.” 

“So he is,” Jack replies, and falls into a 
happy reverie. Sweet little Alice brings her 
book of Bible pictures which Mr. Payton has 
given her, and nestles close by Bessie’s side. 
Truly they are a happy household. 










V. 





QQD220Tn31 





